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From: Sirsemega <sirsemega@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Dom's Revenge (Mff,ff,BDSM,M/s,D/s,MDom)
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Date: Wed, 21 Nov 2007 18:10:02 -0500
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(c) 2007 Sirsemega
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
are either the product of the author's disturbed imagination and are
used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead,
undead or mostly harmless, business establishments, events, or
locales
is entirely coincidental.
If you enjoy it, please drop me an email at sirsemega@gmail.com
Synopsis:
Cheating wife who walked out on her humiliated husband begs to be
taken back for protection. Husband has other plans and wants to
humiliate and degrade her to get back at what he is still feeling
about her cheating on him.

A Dom's Revenge (Mff, ff, BDSM, M/s, D/s, MDom)

Wife sharing, wife swapping, cuckolding, ugh! I'm the type of person
that could never get over something like that happening to me.
Unfortunately something like that did happen and the anger, hurt and
humiliation from it has turned my caring, loving heart into a dead
black organ of vile that now directs all its energy towards my wife.

Why she strayed, it doesn't matter. There's always a justification for
our actions and if you can speak long enough on a subject, sooner or
later you can convince anyone that it was your fault even if it was
theirs. Like I'm the one that took her pants and panties down and
placed her on that other guys cock! Quickly she admitted it, threw it
in my face, laughed and walked out of my life.

The next two years I spent learning a new way of sex, a new way of
relation. Perverting BDSM into an unethical code of physiological
twisted code, I refined my techniques with many partners and mentors,
so many because once they had seen what was inside me, they quickly
moved on wanting to have no part in my darkness. A few wondered if
they had trained the next serial killer, others just stopped talking
to me, avoided my gaze whenever we found ourselves in the same area
together.

I attracted the real edge players. My name and reputation got around
in circles, and the internet. Edgy Goths, punk rocker wannabes,
tattooed and pierced freaks sought me out to see if I could challenge
them, push them past their edge of comfort. I did of course, no real
feeling within me allowed me to be callous and cruel even by their
standards. I was over her, my wife. That would have taken a lot longer
than a two years if things continued as they were.

They didn't continue, of course, nothing stays the same and things
change. One evening the phone rang and when I answered it, my legs
gave out on me as the croaking whisper of my wife responded through
the phone. "R...R...Rich...ard?"
I was silent, in truth I couldn't speak. My throat swelled and I
couldn't breathe.
I eventually mumbled my assent.
She composed herself. Something was wrong. The cocksure manner of her
voice from when she strode out of my life had vanished. There was fear
in her voice. She finally got to the point and wanting, no needing to
see me.
Shocked and still off guard from her call, I stupidly agreed before I
knew what I was doing. All a haze, before I knew it she had arranged
to come over that evening after I had gotten off work.
A few minutes after hanging up, I hit myself in the head over and over
again. FUCK! I said to no one in particular, what a fucking idiot I
was. I didn't want to see her, at least I think I didn't. My heart
reopened. The wound fresh again. How dare that bitch do this to me
again! I hadn't thought about her for a while and now this.

Work sucked. I was a zombie just going through the motions, trying to
figure out what the hell she wanted, why did she call, why was she
scarred. I tried to plan out all my best responses to anything she
said to me, but she was cryptic in leaving me not much to go on as to
why she needed to see me. I naturally thought that she might want to
get back with me, but I really couldn't think about that as that
distracted me even more at work. There's no way she wants that, I told
myself. The way she walked out on me and the things she said before
made that almost impossible. Still a small part of me thought that was
it. The rest of my mind and heart came up with many reason why that
wouldn't be the case, no use hurting myself again when that turned out
to be false. Most likely, I told myself, that she was finally ready to
finalize the divorce.

When she left, we cut off all communication. I literally hadn't seen,
spoken or heard from her since that night. Where and what she did, I
often, in bed all alone at night, wondered, but that just made me more
furious.

I left work right on time, eager to get home before she got there and
try to compose myself. I pulled into the driveway and saw her car
there as well. Fuck! She couldn't even give me the time to myself. I
got out the car and saw her waiting at the front door. Wow! She looked
tired. She looked old. The bitch, when we were married was a decent
shaped redhead, a tad overweight with a pretty face, she was three
years younger than I. Now she looked almost ten years older. Hard
living in the past two years, I muttered to myself, not that my time
had been fun and games. She had now packed on at least another thirty
pounds from her former weight, wrinkles around her face made her look
like a smoker, and her skin seemed rather yellow. She had a look of
total misery on her face. I could have been a ploy for sympathy, a way
to get me to go easy on her, I thought. I smiled. Even if the look on
her face was false, she still had not had the "better" life she had
ran off to while ditching me.

I lead her inside to our house...my house, she had given up that right
when she had left. I put my stuff away, pulled out two glasses of
bourbon and offered her one as we sat in the living room, here on the
edge of the couch, my in my chair. She glanced around, made small
talk, mentioning the changes that I had made, keeping to herself the
fact that all evidence of her being in this house were gone, pictures,
stuff she had bought on her own, picked out, etc.

I kept quiet, nursed my drink, and tried to remain as calm as possible
and push all thoughts of strangling her right then and there, as deep
within me as possible. She took another swig, and sighed.
"I, guess you're wondered why I called..."
Tersely, I said, "Yeah...a bit of a shock..."
She was shaking, and I could see the composure fall from her.
Suddenly, she blurted out, "Oh David, I've made a terrible mistake!"
She broke down there crying.
A mistake? Really? No fucking shit! I wondered.
I said nothing, I did nothing. I tried to be a cold as possible. No
way was I going to make this easy on her.
"I was such a fool," she finally said between sniffles after she had
given a good cry.
She tried to look at me, her eyes teary, mascara running, she looked
pathetic, and I just now had noticed that she had made an attempt to
do herself up for me. It was a failed attempt. This past two years,
while she was gone, I played with far better, far sexier, far fresher
women and girls than what she had become. I met her eyes, I showed no
emotion. Here comes the negotiation, I realized, and I didn't want to
give anything away by showing her a weakness.
She pushed forward.
"David, this past two years has been horrible, miserable for me. I
never realized what I had with you until I walked out that door..."
Coldly I interjected, "Horrible for you? And it has been nice for me?"
Her mouth dropped open, she stammered for a moment, her train of
thought broken. She sniffled and asked if I had any tissue.
"You ought to remember where that is here, go on, get some." I said.
She looked at me and then slowly got up and trudged over to the
bathroom and cleaned herself up. Coming back out she sat on the couch,
a little closer to me.
She started again.
"David, I'm truly sorry for what I did to you. What I did was selfish,
childish and wrong. What I went after was a fairy tale, something that
doesn't exist, and I've been paying for it ever since."
I said nothing, curious as to where this was leading, well I kinda
figured where this was leading, but still wanted her to take it to
that direction.
"I know I hurt you badly, David, I don't expect you to ever forgive
me, but David," she slide toward me and held my hand, the warmth ness
shocking me, "David, I want, no need you, no I'm begging you to take
me back."
There it was, she was crawling back to me. She had had her fun,
realized that it wasn't for her and now wanted to come back like
nothing happened.
I sat there for a minute, saying nothing. There was rage in my eyes,
there was sadness too, but there was hurt.
"I don't know.." I said.
She grimaced. There was fear on her face, it seemed like the fear was
a little to strong to be employed in me not taking her back, maybe she
needed to come back, maybe she was in some sort of trouble.
"What's this all about?" I asked. "Your words say one thing, your face
says something else. What's really going on? I don't hear from you for
two whole years, and then all of a sudden you beg me to come back?"

She coughed and sniffled. She looked up into my eyes again, her watery
with new found tears, "Please." She croaked.
"Tell me what this is all about," I prodded.
She was reluctant until I made it clear that this conversation was
over until she cleared things up a little more.
Finally, without giving too much detail she relayed to me that almost
as soon as leaving the house that night to be with her new boyfriend,
who "understood" her, things had gone horribly wrong. They just didn't
fit in together, and he had gone on sleeping around with everything
that had a skirt and two legs. She had lost her job, her savings, her
looks and her confidence as he became a boy instead of the man that
she had fantasized about. Alcohol had been abused by him and he had
gambled, gambled everything away. And now they owed some loan sharks
money, money of which they didn't have. They had been kicked out of
their rental, and the loan sharks had taken him away. It turned out
that he was never coming back. She admitted that they had probably
killed him and now the debt was placed on her. She was homeless,
penniless, and jobless. With no one to fall back on, with money owed,
her looks now really shot, she really had no other choice than to come
groveling back to me. Gee, it was really nice being the "last resort"
to your bitch of a slut wife.

By this time she had been kneeling at my feet, telling her miserable
tale, and as I looked down at her, the rage stewing within me, another
part of my mind formed a small semblance of a plan. I let her know I
was angry, I let her know that her justification for getting back with
me were false. I couldn't be sure if she still loved me, how could I
when what she was really afraid of was homelessness. Last fucking
resort. Yeah, until something better comes along, I screamed at her.
She took it. All the cursing, the name calling the threats. She had no
choice.

I told her I would have to think about it. She looked fearful, her
eyes darting at the front door. A storm, it seemed, truly poetic at a
time like this, had moved in and the thought of being out on the
streets overnight truly had her scarred. She had already intimated
that some nasty people out there had spotted her and were trying to
work her over, pimps, druggies, whatever, to her, she realized that
she was now fresh meat.

"You'll have to leave now," I said, getting up. She still on her knees
looking up at me. She grabbed my leg, wrapping herself around it
begging, "Please! Please! Let me stay the night! I beg you, I can't go
out there!"
Disgusted, I kicked away from her, and en evil thought came to mind.
Smiling I looked down on the miserable bitch. "Your don't fucking
deserve to stay here in MY home, however, you have given me something
to think about and although I am still in a lot of pain and anger, I
am willing to let you stay in the garage, ONLY for tonight though."

She composed herself, realized that I was serious and that she had
better take it as a better offer would not be forthcoming. She nodded
and made herself ready. "You can pull your car in and sleep in it
inside the garage." I said. "I don't want your cheating ass slut smell
on any of my things."
She winced and nodded a yes.
She pulled her car in and closed the garage door. I then locked the
door leading into the house so she could not come in during the night.

I slept little that night. Tossing and turning I went over the facts
that I managed to get out of her. It seems that I had made a better go
of life than she did when we were on our own. Now I could see why she
had aged so quickly. Giving up a sure thing a safe marriage and a
caring husband for a little pretty boy who took advantage of her and
turned out to be a bait and switch in the fantasy and romance
department. No doubt he had squandered her money away as well.

What had left me was a confident, pretty woman, and what had shown up
on my doorstep tonight was a broken, ugly old lady. But broken may
have its uses, I muttered to myself. I smiled. She didn't know the new
me. This new me knew how to handle broken women, how to play them, how
to enjoy my sadistic pleasures with them. She was coming back to me
because I had things she needed, stability, a husband, food, money, a
roof over her head. I got her, I had the winning hand. The question
now was, did I really want her? Why not just cut her adrift? I
pondered that all night long, was I really better off without her, had
I been? I had to admit that some of the things I did, some of the
sadistic tortures I had inflicted on pretty women looked for some edge
play were really directed at her. If I just cut her loose, would this
heartache ever heal? Would I really get over her? Wait, I haven't
gotten over her? I realized that I hadn't. That was the deciding
factor.

I turned over and began to plot my response to her offer of gracing me
with her presence again. There would be changes to this relationship
if the Bitch wanted to come back, tail between her legs. She would
have to pay for what she did to me. Revenge, and I don't think she
knew what was in store for her.

The next morning I got up and got ready for work.  Finally I unlocked
the door to the garage and called for her to come in. Before getting
down to business, she tried to go to the bathroom, but I stopped her
and had her ask me for permission to use the toilet before finally
allowing her to relive herself.

I sat her down, she seemed hopeful as she read my face and had found
that some of the rage was gone. Her face was puffy, fat, old, ugly,
but there was my wife in there as well.
I let her know that I was not pleased with the reason why she had come
crawling back to me. That financial stability and money played a
larger part in her contacting me than her love for me. I was hurt, I
said, that the real reason she called was her fear of homelessness,
rather than a newfound love for me.

She struggled with that, quickly trying to say that it was her
situation that forced her to take stock and realize that she truly
loved me, deeply and always did. She again begged for forgiveness from
me, of which I did not give her.
"My life has changed," I said, "since you've been gone. I'm not the
same David you married. My tastes have changed now that I have
experienced other lovers."
She squirmed in her chair. "They were all younger than you, and far
prettier than you are." This hurt her. Good! I continued.
"I don't know if I can ever forgive you, I find it hard to even think
of you by your name."
She nodded sadly. Dejected and loosing hope.
"However," I said, and her face perked up.
"I might be able to make you an offer that would allow you to stay in
My House."
She smiled a little.
"Don't be too quick to smile," I said. "Your life here would not be
anything like it used to be. You would not be free to do as you like,
see who you like, communicate with who you like. You have no money,
correct?"
She was a little concerned now, I quickly asked her again, more
forcefully.
She nodded, "Yes," she whispered.
"No job? No prospects?"
Again she nodded, her shoulders dropping, the weight of her plight
pulling her down.
"So what can you offer me to receive my protection?"
She looked up at that word, confused.
"Protection!" I repeated. "That is what you're looking for, safety, a
home, food, a partner in some form..."
She nodded.
"So?" I asked, "What can you offer me? So far I see no reason to put
myself out again, when you already have told me that it wasn't love
that brought you back to my doorstep."
She started to cry. "I do love you." She protested. "I do..."
"Love," I said, "I something I don't know if I can have for ever
again. You broke my heart, you shattered me, and you betrayed the
trust that I had given you. I can't give that back to you now, I don't
know if I ever will."
She was crying.
It was getting late and I had to go to work. I now offered her some
thoughts so that she could answer me when I got home.
"Listen to me. I have to go to work now, and I don't feel comfortable
with you staying in the house while I'm gone. You will have to leave."
She panicked. "Please," she said. "Please!"
I cut her off.
"I want to give you some more facts for you to answer my question.
While you have been gone, I have realized that I am a dominant
sadist."
Her mouth dropped, she didn't really understand what that as, but she
hope I hadn't gotten religion.
"Bondage, Discipline, Submission, Dominance. I like to play with women
as my submissives as my slaves, as my little toys. I whip them, eat
them, tie them up, train them, control them, and fuck them."
She was speechless.
"I'm telling you this for two reasons, one, I will continue to do
these things with others, regardless if I take you back or not, and
two, because, and I'll make this really simple for a stupid slut bitch
like you, who threw away the best thing in your life and now wish that
you could have a do-over, I might, perhaps, be interesting in the one
thing you do have to offer me..."
I left it at that, grabbed her by her arm and walked her out to her
car. Locking up the house, I got in my car and rolled down the window.
"Be back here with your answer when I get home. Don't be late or
else."
She tried to ask me where she should go while I was at work.
"I don't fucking care, just stay off my property until tonight."
I paused, then added. "Maybe, it might be good to do a little research
on what it is I'm interested in before formulating an answer.
Bookstores have a wealth of information." With that I went to work.

Again work went slowly. My mind kept drifting towards her. Still
shocked at her appearance, I wondered what was going through her mind.
Was she at some bookstore looking through volumes on BDSM? Master
slave? It would be a very interesting evening tonight. This morning I
had successfully striped her down. I showed her that she had no other
options. She now realized that if she really needed my protection, she
would have to earn it, and she was now discovering what that would
mean. Either she would refuse, or she would give in and give herself
to me, either way, didn't matter for me. Truly, now seeing her, seeing
what she had become, I was disgusted with her. This was my wife? I
fucking well think not! I turned down many a skank that were better
looking than her. Looking back, I realized that I had always been the
better looking of the two. My idle, innocent flirting now didn't seem
so innocent, my safety with other women because I was married, might
not have been the reason other women flirted with me. Seeing me and
then seeing her, they knew I deserved more, that I should have been
giving my everything to them. Wasted time, I was now making up for it
though. If she stayed, offered me what I wanted in exchange for my
protection, she would pay dearly.

I prepared myself. I called my lawyer and had a few documents
prepared, one was her signing away all rights to any property we both
owned, another was power of attorney over her, essentially giving me
all rights and decision over her.

I rolled up to my garage and sure enough she was there waiting for me
at the front door. I let her in and led her to the sofa. I offered her
no food, no drink. It looked like she hadn't eaten all day.

"Do you have an answer to my question as to what it is that you could
possible offer me that I would want from you to allow me to consider
protecting you?"
She took a breathe, eager that I got right to the point, it seemed
that she had memorized the speech that followed.
"I did what you asked, I went to several bookstores today and read up
on the subject. I must admit that it was very embarrassing when I
asked the store clerks for books on the subject. Some of them laughed
at me."
She continued.
"I tried to cover as much as possible, I take it that people in these
relationships take on roles of Master and slave and one gives up power
to the other."
I nodded.
"Pain and pleasure seem to follow suit with the "Master" giving some
sort of pain to the slave that also is pleasurable. I don't understand
that though, I have never experienced pain that was pleasing."
I urged her to continue.
"In truth, David, I have no choice. I need your protection and your
trust. I do love you and I wish that I could get you to trust me
again, but I realize that it's too soon for that to happen. I can only
give you the one thing I have left to give David, myself. I realize
that the type of person you are, you are probably looking for a slave,
a maid, someone who you can order around, who will do what you say. If
in this role I can prove to you my sincerity and that my intentions
are true, I'm desperate to try."

I leaned back. "So do you understand what it is, that I'm asking?"
She swallowed. "You want me to be your slave. For me to give to you
the only thing I have to give, myself, totally over to you."
I got up and paced, to her I seemed like a leopard pacing for my meal,
"So, if I were to ask you to call me Master from now on...?"
"I would...Master." She said.
"And," I quickly added. "if I were to tell you that you now sleep on
the floor at the foot of my bed..?"
She gulped, realizing that she would have no choice, "I would."
I looked at her with an arched eyebrow, prompting her. "...Master." She
answered.
"And say you did something like forget to call me Master, what do you
think would happen?"
Shaking she seemed to break down now.
"You..." she stuttered, "..you...would whip me..."
I waited.
"...Master."
I faced her now. "None of this means that I will love you bitch. That
I will feel for you. I will protect you and you will be safe within My
House. Everything else is subject to my decisions. You take this deal
and you have a place to live, food in your belly, and no pimps or
druggies taking you, but know this, they won't own your ass, but I
will."

Her face was pale. Would she agree? Would she walk? I didn't really
care if she walked now, but if she agreed...
She nodded. "I accept."
I paused. Victory!
"You accept, what?"
"I accept the terms, Master." She said.
I smiled. "Good."
She seemed relieved. The burden was gone, only to be replaced by
another burden!
"In exchange for your protection, we have quite a few things to go
over, rules, paperwork, punishment, and just general things you will
need to know."
She nodded.
"Rules first," I said.
"First off, what ever I say goes, if I say the sky is green, you
fucking say "Yes Master the sky is green" She nodded.
I sighed, "This nodding has got to stop. When I say something, answer
me properly, with a little fucking respect, understand?"
She gulped, her hands fidgeted as my harsh language was something she
wasn't used to hearing from me. "Yes, Master." She quickly added.
 "Rule," I continued, "You are not to use any furniture unless I
expressly allow it. You may ask to sit on a chair, eat from the table,
heaven forbid because you won't get this privilege anytime soon, to
use the television or phone, but it is always up to me to decide if
you may be allowed to use it. Understand?"
She started to nod, stopped herself and said, "Yes, Master."
I tapped my foot, she just blinked at me.
"You really are a stupid cunt," I screamed. Pointing to the sofa I
added, "What the fuck do you think you are doing?"
Her eyes lit up, "Oh," she said.
"Oh? Well get the hell off my sofa! You kneel on the floor from now
on!"
She quickly knelt, adjusting herself. There was a moment of anger in
her eyes. I just stared her down. "Just you adjust that attitude
bitch!" I warned.
"Rule," I continued again. "Bathroom and food are the same as
furniture, I will decide when you eat, drink, piss, shit and sleep.
You of course may ask, but I decide to allow it!"
"Yes, Master." She said. This was turning out to be a bit more than
she realized.
"Now, more rules will come, but for now we have some paperwork for
you."
I motioned her to the coffee table where she knelt in front of the
papers I had taken out. I ordered her to sign them after explaining to
her what they were. In essence, I now legally had final say over her
in health and financial matters. I might have embellished a little and
after she shakily signed her name, she was now under the impression
that she had now waved all her rights in exchange for my protection.
She now knew that my legal end of the deal was to provide her with the
protection she needed, not the love, not the attention, but the roof
over her head, the food, and no more worry about money issues. Poor
bitch now had no money issues to worry about. This, I told her would
be proof of both hers and my sincerity on upholding the bargain. Now,
after she had signed these documents and I had faxed them over to my
lawyer, she was now my property and in exchange her piece of mind was
that I would never banish her from my protection.

I sealed the deal by making her strip off her clothes, kneel in front
of me and kiss my shoes.
"Rule, just like the furniture and the food and drink and bathroom
privileges, clothing is also under my domain. You may not wear
clothing unless I specify it. You again may ask, but it is up to me.
When I come home from work each day, I want you to be at the door
naked, and you will welcome your Master home by kissing his shoes and
greeting him by his title."
Again she responded with a yes Master.
I waited patiently as she realized that she should remove all her
clothing. The clothes stunk, dirty and greasy, I wrinkled my nose,
bundled the clothes up and threw them ceremoniously into the trash.
She fidgeted, her exposed body, the rolls of fat and the varicose
veins made her quite self conscious. She kept trying to hide her
private parts with her arms. I patiently slapped her arms away each
time she tried.
We continued as I went over the rules and what I expected her to do,
she would not be sitting on her ass all day long, she would have to
work, since I was the breadwinner, her day was mapped out with chores,
everything from preparing breakfast and dinner for me to the cleaning,
the wash and other tasks. She was only allowed in certain rooms,
certainly the kitchen and the downstairs bathroom, the living room and
for now I made my bedroom off limits. She tentatively asked where she
would sleep, and I made a big show of trying to decide where in the
garage a stupid slut like her should sleep. Finally I cleared out a
pantry next to the kitchen, threw some towels down and said, you sleep
here until I say so.
It was getting late, but I still had to impress upon her what happens
if she disobeyed or misbehaved. I led her upstairs to the far bedroom.
I opened the door and she gasped. The guest bedroom had been cleared
out of all smooth soft objects to make way for my dungeon. "Oh, I've
made some changes since you decided to walk out on me." I mocked.
Strapping her in to a pillory her head and arms immobilized, I cuffed
her ankles to each side as she was bent over giving me a perfect
target for her ass.

I pulled down several whips and paddles, showing them to her, I
laughed evilly. I grabbed a bright red ball gag and shoved it into her
mouth. "I'm going to show you what happens if you disobey. Call this a
sampling, but I think I shall also enjoy beating you for the hurt
you've caused me." I bent down, grabbed her hair and roughly twisted
her head to look me in the eyes, "For each blow I inflict on you, know
this, your little mid-life crises made me who I am today, every ounce
of pain you feel is because you broke me, hurt me and made me angry.
You humiliated me and drove me to enjoy inflicting pain on people.
These last two years as I learned my new trade, every single stroke,
cut, lash...all of it I pictured you at the end of it."
All she could do was moan through her ball gag. Her eyes were tearing
up.
I started out slowly, first warming her ass with my hand, taunting
her.
"Look at that fat lard-ass. It's like hitting jello. My you have let
yourself go."
I quite enjoyed my hand prints on her ass, but time to progress. I
pulled out a small cat o' nine tails. Dangling it in front of her
face, I smiled and introduced it to her. Then I moved behind her and
started whipping her slowly but progressively faster and harder on
both ass cheeks and her back.
"You were never really pretty to begin with," I sneered. "But really,
you are disgusting! Fat, lazy, old, what the fuck happened to you?"
It was a rhetorical question of course, how could I expect her to
answer when gagged?"
She was fidgeting now, the whole of her backside was red, the cat was
good at irritating the skin as it bit and dragged itself over the
skin.
I walked over to the wall and hung the cat back up. Next I pulled down
a nasty looking paddle. Birchwood, thick, long and evil looking
"This, my dear is a paddle. I'm so looking forward to seeing how your
ass looks after this."
No warm up this time, I just hit her squarely on her left ass cheek
and then right. I only gave her five strokes on each cheek. She was
sobbing now. Her eyes were gunked over, her nose and mouth strewing
spittle and snot.
I gave some tissue after hanging up the paddle, and calmly, soothingly
wiped her face clean. "Shhhh..." I cooed. Tenderly I wiped her cheeks
and face clean. It took her a few minutes to calm down slightly, her
entire body shaking as she struggle in the stocks.
Stupid bitch, she thought it was over.
I got up and pulled down a nice flexible rod, it was fiberglass, and
had far less chance of breaking than a wooden switch or cane. "This,"
I said as I swung it around to allow her to hear the whooshing noise
it made as I swung it. "This, is by far one of my nastiest tools at my
disposal."
Realizing that the beating wasn't over, she sobbed and started crying
again. The look on her face was one of pure terror yet a realization
that there was nothing she could do to avoid it. Her struggling in the
stocks now seemed rather faint, all energy sapped from the previous
instruments and beatings.
I grabbed her hair and raised her face up to view the rod. "Spare the
rod and spoil the slave? I fucking well think not Bitch!"
She moaned, well that's about the only thing she could do.
"I own you ass. You have given me yourself, your body, to do as I see
fit. I will protect you from everyone, but myself. You still have
plenty of penance to pay."
All she could do is look into my eyes, wet, teary, sniveling, her eyes
pleaded with me, she had learned her lesson. I think not. Not by a
long shot.
I maneuvered around behind her, and measured up for my first strike.
If you've never been hit by a cane or rod, you just cannot comprehend
how badly it hurts. There's a sharp flash of pain that shoots through
your entire body, but worst of all there then comes a long lingering
pain, an ache as the skin cells die around where you have been struck.
The concentrated blow basically erupts all the cells in that area and
the remaining pain is like a fire torch burning its way through the
skin.
She had no idea, until that first strike. She howled! All the
remaining strength coursed through her body as she tried to break free
of the stocks. The pillory was strong, made of solid oak wood. I
waited till she calmed down before I swung the second stroke.
Again she howled, and I was glad that I had gagged her. There was a
fair enough distance between my house and the neighbors, but still, I
was sure that someone out there could have heard her scream ungagged!
She was bawling now, her face a mess again. I continued striking her,
pausing between strokes to allow the full blow to take effect.
An image of my wife, from when we were married, prettier than now, on
her knees, sucking some nameless faceless mans cock, a smile on her
face, a wicked smile on her face knowing, that I didn't know, reveling
in the fact that part of the excitement of the very act was knowing
that her husband, me, had no fucking clue. Humiliating me, snickering
behind my back.
I swung harder now. I cursed at her, called her a cheat, a liar, a
whore. I took out my rage on her and it felt oh so good. Her entire
body was convulsing now. She had gone quiet, too quiet. I quickly
stopped. I was shaking as well, my rage had taken over. I hung up the
rod. Quickly I checked her face, she was breathing as I wiped away
some of the snot and saliva, clearing her air holes.
She had passed out. I awakened her, slapping her face till she came
to. Moaning, the pain quickly returned to her. She wouldn't look me in
the eyes. Fear, guilt, pain, humiliation were all coursing through
her. I hadn't noticed till then, but she had wet herself, her bowels
had emptied and I was glad that I had taken the carpet up in this
room, leaving an easily cleanable linoleum floor to wipe fluids like
this down.
"This, you fucking bitch, is a little sampling of what's in store for
you. Now you know what a punishment feels like. I will beat you if you
do something wrong, I will beat you if you screw up, I will beat you
if you disobey. Hell, I will beat you because I feel like it. IT.
GIVES. ME. PLEASURE."
I unlocked her from the pillory, pulled her up and marched her to the
guest bathroom that she was allowed in. I pulled out some healing aloe-
vera cream, a special concoction one of my mentors had told me about
to help seal the wounds from a whipping.
"Take this cream and apply it to your ass. It will help it heal."
She did and gingerly started to apply it. Her ass was bloody now, long
purple and red strikes crossed it. Already sections of it were turning
black.
"Apply it more thickly," I said.
She was huffing and puffing, clearly exhausted from the ordeal. I gave
her a look as she started to nod and she caught herself.
"Yes, Master." She said though her voice was broken and she has
whispered it.
Once done, I marched her into the kitchen. Every step she took was in
agony.
"Cook something simple and fast, slave." I commanded. Once we have
eaten you may go to your closet and sleep for the night.
"Yes, Master." She said. The tears would have been flowing but I know
that she was dehydrated.
"You may drink one glass of water before starting dinner." It would do
no good to have her pass out again.
"Thank you, Master." She said and quickly poured herself a glass of
tap water.
While she quickly got dinner cooking, I went back into the dungeon and
cleaned up her mess. In the future she would have to do this herself,
however at the moment, I don't think she would have the energy to do
it, and there were quite a few more surprises in this room that I
didn't want her discovering until I sprung them on her.

I came back into the kitchen and she had just finished off a simple
pasta dish, a little butter and cheese. Because she was still weak,
and probably hadn't eaten much for who knows how long, but also to
torment her some more with her sore, make that wreaked ass, I allowed
her the rare pleasure of sitting at the table and eating with me.
She was hesitant, until I slammed my fist down on the table. She
quickly sat down and moaned. Her body shook as the pain coursed
through her.
Eat, I had told her, and she did. There was little talk. She was more
tired than curious right now, and even though she must have been
flooded with emotions, she could barely shovel the food into her mouth
because she was so tired.
I had her clear the table, but told her to leave the dishes for
tomorrow morning, and then I marched her to new sleeping area, the
cleared out pantry off the kitchen. On the floor she tried to get
comfortable and fall asleep. With the pain shooting throughout her
body, I was surprised to see her fast asleep almost immediately.

I went to bed. I too was tired but before I fell asleep, I played
through the possible occurrences that would happen tomorrow. Either
she would not tolerate the types of abuse she now knew she would face,
and run away to leave her fate in the hands of those brutal killer
loan sharks, or she will have been broken and will fully accept her
new position in life, as my whipping girl, my dirty ugly charge, my
slave.
If that were the case, I would know soon and the plans I had for her
would start to go into effect.

The next morning was Saturday, luckily I was off work and could sleep
in. She never did like to sleep in and I figured that she would
probably wake up earlier than me and I would give her the time this
morning before I rolled out of bed to allow her to decide whether to
stay or go.
I lazed about in bed slowly coming awake. I heard some movement
downstairs and figured she was either readying herself for the day's
chores, or she was packing what little things she had left and getting
ready to leave.
After a little while I smelled some bacon cooking. I smiled to myself.
She's staying, I thought. Again, I wouldn't blame her if she had left
to face those wolves. The last two years had drained her of almost
everything that had attracted me to her in the first place. Her
confidence and self esteem shot, she had the good sense to realize
that she was ripe for the picking by some unscrupulous, nefarious
people, seeking shelter in the one safe haven still available in her
mind, she retreated to the lesser of two evils, hoping, wishing that
her caring hurt husband, whom she knew would lash out at her, would be
the lesser of two evils.
Her parents had passed away long ago, no other siblings, and pretty
much all of our friends had sided with me and had refused to stay
friends with her when it got out that she had cheated on me.
Now she had accepted, after experiencing and learning what her new
role would be here, the fact that she was now going to be my slave.
I'm sure she figured that by biding her time and keeping quiet, doing
everything that I required of her, she would be able to regain my good
grace and be able to once again become my wife. Who knows, maybe in
time that would happen, but if it did, it would not be for a very,
very long time.

I replayed the image in my head that spurned my caning of her ass, the
cheating slut whore sucking another mans cock. My blood boiled and my
heart pumped with hurt, anger, rage and humiliation. Other images just
like that, with her in different sexual positions had haunted me in my
nightmare dreams there past two years. At first they occurred every
night, then over the months they occurred less frequently, but always
at the most inopportune times they would resurface. A pity to the poor
woman who I was with when that happened. I did add the extra effort
into my play time whenever a flash of that whore wife of mine
flickered past my eyes.

I had a pretty good idea of my plans now that it seemed that she would
be staying and accepting her fate. It would be expensive, to be sure,
I had planned to contact the loan sharks and pay off her debt. The
price was not as high as I expected, although I did not let her know
that. Since she had left me, I put a lot of energy into my work,
getting promoted and generally cutting back on a lot of expenses. I
had saved up a lot of money while she was gone. Now her debt was going
to wipe out some of that savings, but for my plans, for my final
closure and piece of mind, it was a small price to pay for revenge,
closure and payback.

There was a timid knock on the door. I called out for her to enter.
She carried in my breakfast on a tray. Her eyes puffy and her face
bloated from last nights crying. Her entire back was black and blue,
her ass had ugly scabs already forming. She walked carefully, wincing
as she moved. She was in a lot of pain. I told her to set it on the
end table. She did. I bid her to kneel down beside the bed and wait
while I ate.
She creaked when she knelt down, but quickly answered, "Yes, Master."
The meal was good, simple eggs and bacon and toast, but it pleased me
that she didn't need prodding. I was curious as to how she was feeling
and gave her a chance to express herself. Talking about the reality of
the situation sometimes reinforced it to the point that the individual
can actually talk themselves further into something by just letting
them talk.
She was really surprised but resigned to the fact that the whipping
was far beyond her tolerances. She told me she understood the rage I
still had for her and that she was truly deeply sorry for the pain she
had caused me. She did seem to be penitent, and was now accepting of
the fact that even though she had my protection, she clearly had not
earned any status close to what she was as my wife.
I asked her about her chores. We had gone over some simple daily items
that she already had done or planned to do. She had proudly informed
me that she had washed up from last night and this mornings cooking.
She then asked me if she could go to the bathroom.
Imposing my will on her, I told her she needed to wait until I had
finished breakfast and she had cleared away my plates. She fidgeted
for a moment then sank her eyes down and said, "Yes, Master."
I would control everything, even her bowels.
I soon finished, and she cleared away the plates on the tray and
winced out of the bedroom to the kitchen and then finally to the
bathroom. I told her to apply more cream on her wounds, it would not
do for my property to get an infection so soon.
I dressed, refreshed from my shower and headed out to do some
business, giving her clear instructions on tidying up the house,
showing her the cleaning supplies and showing her what had changed
since she had abandoned me.

First stop was to contact the loan sharks. It was early so the bar
that she had told me where they normally did business was pretty empty
and they were not to be found. I left a message with the barkeep who
had said that one or the other normally came in around two.
That done, I swung by my lawyers house, and handed over the documents.
He had seen the damage that she had done to me back when she cheated
on me, and although what I had asked him draft up was almost
unethical, he certainly could understand why I had asked him to do
this. All of her decisions, legal, medical, financial were now mine.
She had signed over her debt to me with the understanding that she
would pay me back by being in my employ. She would now work off her
debt to me at such a low rate that she would have to live 200 years
before that debt would be paid back.
I also spoke to him about my proposed deal with the loan sharks, he
drafted up a small letter of protection for me, basically documenting
that he had filed this letter away in the eventuality that things go
horribly wrong. I doubted very much that they would have any issue
with my paying off her debt, there was really nothing of value they
could get from her, she was too old and ugly and overweight to be
their whore, to stupid for anything else. It seemed like a winning
proposition to me. Nevertheless, my lawyer took steps to protect me.

The next stop was to an acquaintance of mine from the scene. He was
quite skillful in his trade and I made an appointment for him to come
over this evening to the house. Rusty was a skilled metal crafter and
had fallen into the BDSM game because his work was of a quality that
the community wanted. He specialized in small solid workmanship and a
little surprise item that I walked him through the initial designs for
my new slave.

After that, I went to a BDSM store that was well known and stocked
with good books and literature for introducing people to the
lifestyle. I picked out the materials I wanted, stuff that would
quickly indoctrinate my slave into what BDSM is, and what I would
expect her to become. I had set aside in her quickly filling up daily
schedule an hour each day for her to read and research the subject. I
glanced at some of the articles of clothing, making some mental notes
of what might be confining and humiliating for he to wear, but for
now, she would have to earn clothing, and I felt I might have been
spending too much on her as it was.

Next I went to my doctors office, and set up an appointment to have
her checked out, all tests done, and most importantly all STD test
done across the board. It looked like she probably had not had any
health care or dental care since she left me, so the next step was the
dentist's office as well. She would be due for all of this.

The last stop before going back to the bar was to a video producer
friend of mine, I spoke with him about a cheap setup for video
surveillance in my house. I wanted to be able to monitor and review
the bitch's activities when I wasn't home. Any infraction while I
would be gone would also be captured and she would then pay dearly for
it. He would be free the following morning to scope it out and set
something up.

I walked back into the bar around two thirty. The bartender recognized
me and motioned with his head towards a slimy looking rat face of a
man sitting like he had owned the place in one of the corners of the
bar. Sitting near him was a huge wall of a mean biker looking man,
probably the muscle in the operation. His eyes were on me as soon as I
had entered. When I walked over to the table he stood and intercepted
me. I stuck out in the bar, not in ripped jeans, leathers and boots,
my slacks and sport coat definitely drew attention to me. After a once
over, I was allowed to have a seat at the table with the rat face.
It actually went surprisingly well. He was a little hazy on the
details, it seems that although she did owe him money, he had pretty
much wrote it off as a debt that would not be collected. She was of no
use to him, again, too old, stupid and fat. He was quite agreeable to
my settling the debt, actually surprised that someone of my "stature"
would actually be wasting my money on a worthless bitch like her. He
chuckled when I let him know that she was my ex-wife and had cheated
on me and crawled back to me. I let him know that payback would be
coming for her.
Happy the transaction went quickly and well, I excused myself and
left. I then headed home.
When I got home, she was waiting for me at the door, kneeling, and
quick to welcome me into my house, kissing both my shoes. Good, I told
her, there was a little room in that stupid brain for her to remember
the rules. I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her over to the
living room where I sat at my chair and had her kneel between my legs.
She glanced at my crotch, unsure as to what would happen next. I think
she was both afraid and eager that I would take my cock out and have
her suck it.
I slapped her once in the face, her cheek redden as the outline of my
handprint darkened over the left side of her face.
"As if!" I growled. "I have no fucking idea who you fucked you dirty
cunt. Why would I even tempt picking up some disease from you?"
She looked down, dejected, pained, "yes, Master." She sighed.
"Now, to business." I said. "I have spoken to the loan shark about
your debt." She started to shake, fear gripping her, but she remained
kneeling between my legs.
"They were very reluctant about accepting my buy out," I lied. "It
seems they have big plans for you." She stifled a sob. Her greatest
fears were falling in with the loan shark and his shady connections to
the underworld. I continued, still lying, it would be another great
way to keep her under control.
"They have accepted a payment plan from me. I have paid off a portion
of your debt. This way, if you do not please me, I will stop paying
them and simply hand you over to them."
She gasped and shook her head. "No, Master, Please! Don't hand me over
to them!"
I grasped her chin in my hand, jerked her face forward so that I could
stare directly into her tearing eyes.
"You know the deal," I growled. "Our arrangement is now in place, you
fuck up, you renege, and I give you over to them. You in turn are
paying for my protection and paying your debt off to me. Don't give me
a chance to let them take you."
She shook her head fiercely chanting over and over again, "yes,
Master. Thank you Master. I will do whatever you want Master."
"Those guys are scary, slut." I said. "It was a real chore for me to
negotiate a payment for you. They told me some of their plans for you,
tried to tempt me to turn you over to them." She shivered and started
to cry again.
"You don't want to know. Their plans are horrible."
I knew that no matter what I came up with as far as concrete details,
it would not be as scary as what she could come up with her own
imagination. Leaving her to her own fears of what they would do with
her, was a far more effective way of scaring her than coming up with
something that would scare her on my own.
"I think you should thank your Master for being so kind to you." I
prodded. She grabbed my legs, wrapped herself around them in a
prostate position and chanted her thank you's to her Master till I
grew tired of her.
Stepping out of her clutches I told her to go use the bathroom and to
clean herself up, company would be coming over soon and she needed to
be presentable.
She showered, went pee, and tried to comb out her matted hair. When
she was done, she presented herself to me in the living room, on her
knees. I stepped around her, circled her. I was not impressed.
"What the hell happened to your beautiful hair?" I asked. That had
been one of her best qualities. She was proud of it and had always had
it neat, clean and artfully styled.
She apologized to her Master and repeated again that times had been
tough.
I tried to run my fingers through her hair but the matting kept
getting them stuck.
"No, no, no," I muttered. "This would not do. No slave of mine can
possibly be presentable with a rat's nest of hair like that. It's
dull, matted, clumped. No." I said and grabbed her and led her back to
the bathroom. "It will have to go." I said.
She didn't quite hear me, and when I placed her on the cold hard
toilet seat, she stifled a cry as her still extremely painful ass had
weight put on it. I pulled out some scissors and started cutting away.
She gasped at first, not sure what I was doing until she realized that
I was taking all of her hair off.
"No, Master!" she cried and tried to struggle off the toilet. I rammed
her back down with a hard shove on her shoulder, and when she raised
her hands up into her hair to stop me, I nicked one of her fingers
with the scissors not stopping while she quickly yelped and pulled her
hands away.
She again started to cry. The one thing she had been able to keep,
although it wasn't as nice as before, was her hair. Now I was taking
even that from her. She let all the tears out as she bawled. Tears,
snot and hair all coming together in a mass of mess in the bathroom.
She would have to clean this up as well, he thought!
Next I got the shaver out and shaved her head till there was just
stubble all over her head. She was freakish looking now as he pulled
her to the mirror and made her look at her new self. She continued
crying as I slapped her ass to give her a shriek.
"Much better,"  I said. You'll have to earn the right to grow hair,
seeing as you can't be competent enough to take care of it on your
own.
She didn't think that she could have sunk lower, but now, looking into
the mirror, seeing the ugly freak that sniffled back at her, she saw
herself for what she had now become; a useless, worthless, cunt slave.
Looking at the thing that stared back at her in the mirror, she had a
hard time understanding why her Master, who now looked more fit, more
handsome, more virile than when he was her husband, why he would spend
any energy on something like her. All she knew know, all that had been
reinforced into her, was that she didn't deserve him even as a Master,
let alone as a husband. While she had fallen, he had blossomed, rising
far, far, far above her in stature, looks, wealth, health and every
other thing conceivable. She had become nothing, he had become
everything. Now she knew. Know she understood what a slave was and
what a Master was. She existed only at the whim of her Master. If he
wanted to give her away, he could, if he wanted her to not use the
furniture, he could, if he refused her a piss and shit, he could. Her
existence was at the mercy of her Master, and now, she understood, and
now she was grateful for that gift that he had given her. She saw all
the energy he had invested in her already. The money and risk he had
placed on himself when dealing with those scary ruthless loan sharks.
Dear god, he could have turned her away, refused to help her; refused
to see her. He could have bitterly left her to her own devises. She
couldn't have blamed him for that. But he didn't, and for that, she
was eternally grateful. For that, she would try to become whatever it
was that he required of her. And with that thought, a tingle erupted
down in her loin. Her back arched, her muscles contracted and she
orgasmed right there.
And I noticed it. The little slut had actually creamed herself with
shame.
"What the fuck was that?' I yelled. I twisted her around and her eyes
immediately dropped to the floor.
"S...sorry, Master." She whispered. "I...I..."
She struggle to find the word then, "...I came."
Her face was beet red. She wouldn't raise her eyes.
I probed her a little. "Why did you cum slut?"
She hesitated, unsure why, I slapped her in her face.
"I don't know, Master."
"Try better bitch."
"I...I just now realized how much you've done for me..." she said.
"How lucky I am that you have gifted me with protection. I now know
that I am your slave, not your wife, and even as your slave, I am
lucky and indebted to you for spending any energy at all on me. You
could have abandoned me, given me up for dead...or worse to those loan
sharks..."
Interesting. Good. Progress was coming along quickly. I should have
punished her. I should have put her on restriction, but I had other
plans, and this was the first instance of her having any sexual
thoughts about me since a long time before she left me. The key now
was to encourage her to start having those thoughts, I would be
unattainable of course, but there was no reason not to have her sex
enslaved to me as well.

I had her wash up again, shower off the stray hair; reapply the lotion
on her blackened ass. Afterwards, still naked I gave her a list of
dishes for her to prepare for dinner. Dinner would be for two, any
leftovers would be available for her to eat afterwards.

She busied herself cooking up dinner, while I awaited my visitor in
the living room going over the books and articles I had purchased at
the BDSM store. I decided on the first book that she would read. It
was an introduction primer on modern day slavery. Something for a
slave audience, dwelling on the mindset and some of the formalities
expected of a slave. I picked out key sections of it that I highlight
and emphasized. I was determined to test her on those sections after
she had read them to see if she had paid enough attention to her task.

The front doorbell rang as the final aromas of dinner were wafting
through the house. I told my slave to continue in the kitchen, a
reprieve she was grateful for seeing as she had just realized that
there will come times where I will expect her to answer the door
naked.

Rusty was invited in, along with a large duffle bag that he promptly
dropped on the floor of the living room. I bid him to sit down on the
sofa and asked him if he wanted a drink.
"Beer, would be good." He said.
"Slave!" I bellowed. "Bring us two beers!"
We heard a little yelp come from the kitchen. I could only imagine
that she was psyching herself up to expose her naked body to this
stranger. The beers were opened, and she came out with two bottles,
one in each hand. Her face was red with shame as she came to me and
tried to hand them to me.
I refused, made her go back and bring them out on the tray. She
quickly ran back to the kitchen, flushed from the impassionate look
from Rusty. She quickly came back out again, this time with the two
bottles on a tray. Just as she got to me and started to lower the tray
to the coffee table, I asked where the glasses were.
She hesitated. Rusty piped in. "Not very smart, is she?"
I fumed. "No, the stupid cunt has a lot to learn."
She quickly apologized and moved back into the kitchen for glasses.
The third time out was the charm. She was able to properly serve us
our beers.
As she started to retreat back to the kitchen and out of sight, Rusty
commented, "She's not much to look at. Really quite ugly and fat,
David. She's far, far below your standards."
She heard that, sobbed and rushed back into the kitchen.
Dinner was in the dinning room, that was one of the rooms that slave
was not allowed in, so she had to hand me the plates at the doorway to
the dining room while I delivered them to the table. Once the table
was set, I ordered slave to kneel in the kitchen, keeping her
disgusting body out of sight, yet within earshot for me to call her
when I needed something.
The meal was fine, nothing special, and we purposely spoke loud enough
so that slave could hear what we talked about.
Rusty just couldn't understand why I had taken on someone like her. He
had seen my companions and this slob of flesh was beyond reason for me
having to do with her.
I explained to him who she used to be. We had a good laugh as I
relayed her tale, the bravado she had had when she had admitted to
cheating on me, that she was leaving me, and that now she had come
crawling back to me. We spoke of other lovers that I had had since
then, going into quite graphic detail. Slave hung on every word as she
started to realize how unimportant she was to me. The attraction that
I once had for her, now, even if she were in great shape like before
she had left me, could not compete to the feast of beauties I had had
while she was gone. I think deep down she probably always knew that I
was the looker of the marriage. There was probably a lot of insecurity
within her as she aged and realized that men aged better than woman.
She probably lashed out at me before I could hurt her. At least in her
mind, that's what I suspected. So little self esteem, even when her
husband loved her with all his heart. Now things were different. If
love didn't help here, pain certainly would.

We finished dinner and dessert was forthcoming. A simple ice cream
dish, but Rusty seemed to appreciate it. After that, I told slave to
clean up the plates and kitchen and when she was done to report to me
in the living room.

I went over the design with Rusty while we waited. Both nursing a
beer, Rusty pointed out already existing features and what would have
to be modified. We both concluded that there already was a good design
created and he would only have to get the correct measurements and a
few tweaks to come up with what I wanted. I impressed upon him that I
wanted the item created sooner rather than later, and that he should
make this his top priority if possible. Rusty assured me that with the
little extra bonus I threw in on the price that he would be done in
about four days.

Slave had finished cleaning up and crept into the living room.
Embarrassed and flushed she knelt beside me and my chair. Rusty still
looked at her in disgust. Laying it on for her sake, I apologized to
him about her poor behavior and also disgusting appearance. Rusty for
his part said he really didn't want to look at her and throw up his
meal. The little bitch cast her eyes down, she wanted to melt away.

I sighed. "We have an agreement. I still think she took advantage of
my weakness, my caring heart and manipulated herself back into my
life. However, the agreement is binding, and I own her, so I'll have
to make do."
Rusty suggested I beat her daily, especially for the horrid service
she used when trying to serve us beers. She couldn't even get that
right.
"You can be a little soft, David." He said. "Perhaps you should lend
her out to me for proper training. I have no feelings for her. I'll
WHIP her into shape, that's for sure."
She started quake. That idea had never entered her mind before. Could
her Master do such a thing? Would she go along with it? Wait, she
would have to, he owned her now. She gulped and kept her eyes down,
afraid to make contact with this man.
"Hmmmm," I pondered. "Thanks, for the offer Rusty. I don't think I'll
take you up on that for now." That should keep her scared shitless.
It was at that moment that she realized that she needed to go piss.
Really bad. She summoned up her courage and asked her Master.
Rusty was outraged. I made a big show of being embarrassed. She tried
to shrink into an even smaller ball. It was time to up the ante. I
jumped up and grabbed her by the ear, seeing as she was a bald freak
now. Motioning to Rusty to follow, I dragged her to the dungeon room,
and once again locked her into the pillory. I cursed her out. Her
exposed blackened ass exposed in the air. This time I brought out the
rod. She saw it and struggled. She went hysterical. Begging me to not
use that, anything but that.
I smiled and stroked her cheek just before shoving in the ball gag
again.
"Oh, don't worry." I said. "I'm not going to use this on you."
She looked at me with a weird expression, confused for a moment until
I handed the rod over to Rusty. Her eyes grew large and she tried to
shake her head in the little hole in the stocks.
"Rusty will use this on you." I smiled and Rusty took the rod and
measured up for his first blow.
Her ass was already damaged, and anymore whipping on that skin would
probably injure her more than punish her. Medical bills can be
expensive, so I instructed Rusty to whip her breasts with the rod. She
screamed in her gag as I said this, sobbing already, knowing how much
more painful the rod would be on that tender flesh compared to her
backside.
Rusty just grinned and surgically aimed his first blow.
She of course fainted again after about five minutes. Her bladder
again releasing itself on the floor. Piss-girl was starting to piss me
off. Yet again I would have to clean this floor.
I woke her up again, slapping her face till she came to. Her body in
pain and agony. Before releasing her, I looked her in the eyes, she
had a look of trapped terror now.
"Rusty thinks I'm going easy on you."
She continued looking into my eyes, terrified.
"He thinks there's no hope of you ever serving your Master well enough
for him to be proud of you. You're a joke. You're an embarrassment to
me."
I continued.
"We do I try? I mean it looks pretty hopeless right now. I don't think
you're good slave stock Maybe it's best if I just turn you over to the
loan sharks..."
She shrieked in her ball gag. Shaking her head no, crying, begging,
negotiating. Through the gag I could pick up words.
"...No...please...do better...promise...don't...beg you..."
I looked at her for a long time, not saying a word. She tried to
nuzzle her face against my hand, cooing as pleasantly as possible. She
acted like a little dog, trying to get back into the good graces of
her owner after she had been beaten for shitting on the floor.
Rusty, in the meantime, was playing devils advocate, dropping little
verbal bombs, "She's not worth it...ugly...fat...stupid...never in a million
years...once a cheat always a cheat...hand her over to them..."
She tried all she could to please me. The gag was difficult for her to
get words out, but it was cute at the same time. I unlocked her from
the pillory, keeping the gag on her, I grabbed her ear again and
pulled her back to the living room.
"Rusty, let's get this done." I said as I had her stand on the coffee
table.
He refused. "Clean the bitch our first, he said. I'm not working on
her with that piss smell."
I looked at her as she blushed.
Dragging her to the bathroom I led her into the shower and turned the
cold water on and quickly had her wash her cunt. She yelped at the
cold water and moved quickly to get it over with.
Fresh, and clean she climbed up on the coffee table where Rusty took a
large number of measurement around her waist and crotch area. She had
no idea what was happening, and I didn't tell her.
Rusty finished up and we conferred on some final issues. She stayed
standing on the coffee table as I hadn't told her to come down. Good,
she was learning.
After Rusty left, I ordered her to place lotion on her breasts. They
too had turned purple and black, they looked like ground up rare
hamburger now. I took the gag off just before bedtime, and she
immediately knelt before me, wrapping her arms around my legs. Begging
me, imploring me to please have patience with her. She called herself
a stupid cunt, a whore not worth my trouble, but she was bound and
determined to prove everyone wrong and to make herself a slave I would
not be embarrassed of.
Things were progressing well.
She asked me if she could go to the bathroom.
"What do you have to do?" I asked.
She hesitated. "Number two, Master."
"Shit?" I confirmed.
"Yes, Master."
"Say it then, ask me properly."
She took a breath. "Please Master, may this slave go to the bathroom
to take a shit?"
I smiled, nodded and followed her into the bathroom.
She seemed alarmed at this and started to protest.
I shook my head as I placed her ginger ass on the toilet seat. You'll
do what I say, now go ahead and take your shit. I'll be watching my
property.
It took forever for her to go. At first she couldn't, but when she
realized that she would not be allowed off the seat until she did,
tried valiantly. Each fart and poop that left her bowels humiliated
her and turned her even redder.
"Wipe your ass." I instructed her. She did as I said. "Yes, Master."
I escorted her to her pantry and made her lay down to go to sleep.
Her breasts were black and purple. Welts had formed all over them. I
could tell she would be in pain for at least a week. Her back and ass
were the same. If she could get comfortable and find a square inch of
flesh that hadn't been bruised and abused, I guess she would be able
to sleep, however, I knew that wouldn't be the case.
I instructed her that tomorrow for breakfast I would like French toast
and coffee.
"Yes, Master" she said, and as I turned out the light and left for bed
she said. "Thank you Master for keeping me, I will make you proud."
I paused then turned the knife in a little bit. "Proud?" I sneered.
"Let's work on not embarrassing me cunt."
And with that remark I went to bed and slept quite well.

The next morning I was awakened by a soft knock at my door. Slave had
done as I asked, French toast and coffee, just the way I liked it. It
seemed that marriage to her wasn't a complete waste as she knew what I
liked and didn't like. She knelt beside the bed and looked at me. I
took a few bites and noticed something a bit different in her stare.
What was it? Something was different.
"What is it, slave?" I asked her.
She glanced down a moment then met my eyes with hers.
"I'm just happy to be here Master. I guess I'm grateful to you and at
peace with who I am now."
I stopped chewing. I didn't think she would turn so quickly. I was
impressed.
I continued eating, and after I had finished, she politely asked if
she could go to the bathroom and take a piss. I said yes and she
tidied up my plates and took them to the kitchen. I followed behind
her shortly afterwards, and noticed that she first cleaned up the
dishes and then went to the bathroom. She was learning.

She still looked horribly funny bald. Her paunchy stomach and saggy
tits with stretch marks really were not attractive, but I smiled to
think how well she had progressed.
After her bathroom break, I put her to work and training, more rules
and more ways to do things exactly to my specifications. At one point
she tried to point out a better, easier way of cleaning the floor. I
quickly threw her over my knee and gave her ten whacks on her ass with
my hand. Her still sore ass quickly overcame her and she was again
crying her head off with pain.
"I'm not interested in a better way of doing something," I growled.
"You do it the way I want it because that's the way I want it done.
Got it?"
"Yes Master." She quickly said between sniffles.
In the afternoon the doorbell rang. We stopped what we were doing and
I gave her a look. Resigned to the fact that she would eventually have
to do this, she asked if I wanted her to answer the door. I nodded and
she scurried off to answer it.
She came back leading Jeff, my video surveillance friend into the
room.
"Slave, go to your pantry." I ordered and she quickly left us alone.
"My god," Jeff said. "What the hell was that?"
When I answered he just shook his head. "Hideous." He said, over and
over again.
I grew tired of his chatter and set him to work installing new cameras
in every room. He was able to place them so that the entire rooms were
covered, then he hooked it up to a computer and was able to set that
up to both monitor and record.
We saved the pantry for last and I shooed slave away into the kitchen
while Jeff installed a camera in there.
Once done, I had motion detecting, day/night cameras in all the rooms
all being recorded to a computer where I could review, or access the
cameras and records over the internet through a VPN that he set up.
There would now be no hiding from me for my cunt slave.
I'm sure she noticed the cameras, but I didn't bother to explain them.
Jeff left after dropping another bad remark about slave's appearance,
and we were left alone. She had a look of sadness on her face, which I
quickly wiped off by giving her more things to do. After another hour
I had some plans to go out and instructed her to do her chores, and
afterwards she could go back to her pantry and read the book I had
left her about slavery. I warned her that I would be testing her, so
that she needed to pay attention. She agreed with me and wished me
well when I went out.

I actually had a play date. All this power had gone to my other head
and he needed to come out and play. I hooked up with a punk rocker
chick named Eve whom I had done some hard playing with before. I went
over to her house as she liked to entertain me there, where she had
lots of things to make me welcome.
As soon as she answered the door, she was down on her knees kissing my
shoes.
"Welcome Master David, please come in."
She was twenty four, black hair with some red and purple streaks
through it. She was a damn fine cook and very limber in bed. We played
till late in the evening, and resting in her bed during the aftermath,
I became keenly aware of her tattoos and piercings. I asked her about
them, how much they hurt, how much they cost. She had one of her
nipples pierced and her belly button. They looked fun. They looked
like a mark of ownership. Satisfied, we said our goodbyes, the scene
over, I let myself out as she was stiff and in some pain, the good
pain, and stayed in bed to sleep it off.
It was about one in the morning when I came back into my house. I was
confronted with slave kneeling at the door, ready to kiss my shoes and
greet me. I let her, a bit surprised that she was still up, and then
started to head to bed.
"Master..." she whispered.
I turned to face her.
"Please sir, may this slave use the bathroom to piss and shit?"
I smiled, nodded and followed her into the bathroom. Again she had a
tough time taking her shit, and truth be told I really didn't enjoy
the smell, but I was breaking her down, and once she was completely
broken and built up the way I wanted her, then I could not worry about
her privacy and my nose.
The next evening, after work, I reviewed the day's events inside the
house through the computer surveillance. The system was a true wonder.
I was able to fast forward through the entire day within twenty
minutes. I spotted a few broken rules by slave and made careful notes.
Coming back into the living room, I sat in my chair and bellowed for
her to come to me. She quickly entered the room and knelt before me.
"Yes, Master?"
"You've been a stupid naughty cunt, haven't you?"
Rather than question or argue, she just agreed. "Yes, Master."
I slapped her face.
"Did you think I wouldn't know?"
"Master?" I guess she wanted to know what she was being accused of.
I sighed. "Stupid, stupid cunt. I'm going to give a chance to confess
to me. That won't make your punishment any less severe, but I want to
see if you have any brains inside that ugly bald skull of yours to
tell me what you did wrong today."
She gulped, composed herself and then quickly rattled off her
transgressions.
"Master, this slave needed to go to the bathroom to take a piss. This
slave could not hold it anymore and because slave is not permitted to
use the phone to call Master for permission, this slave used the
bathroom against his orders. This slave also lay down on the couch for
a few minutes when it was feeling dizzy. This slave is very sore and
stiff from the beatings and from sleeping on the floor. Because the
dizziness did not go away, this slave drank a glass of water and ate a
peanut butter and jelly sandwich. This seemed to help this slave and
the dizziness went away."
She had been convincing. She was aware of the rules, named each
transgression, yet she had come up with a real and convincing argument
for breaking each rule. That would not do. I was glad that she had
been caught, it was an expensive installation that would have been a
waste if she had been able to follow all of my rules while I was out
of my house. But it was merely a tool. She had of course neglected to
tell me about one other transgression that really hadn't been
formalized as a rule yet. Reviewing the cameras from the night before,
the pantry camera was infrared so I could see her as clear as day when
she was asleep and the lights were all out. Not surprisingly, the
little slut had masturbated herself to sleep after she had used the
bathroom and I had put her to bed. The little slut, deep down inside
was getting off on her new role as slave, or perhaps she just had a
higher sex drive than when she was married to me. I couldn't wait for
Rusty's gift to be finished.
I didn't mention this, and I'm sure she figured that the camera where
she slept could not see anything in the dark. I got up, grabbed her
ear and dragged her into the dungeon. She immediately started to
sniffle.
This time, rather than place her in the pillory, I threw her onto her
stomach on a short fat leather ottoman. The ottoman was a big square
size, perhaps half the size of a bed. Around the edges of it were
steel ring tie-downs. She offered no resistance when I pulled from the
wall several coils of black thick rope. Quickly I tied her wrists
behind her back, then her ankles then a chest brace around her saggy
tits. I coiled the rope around those tits tighter and tighter making
them pop out painfully and cut off her circulation. Her blackened and
purple tits now turned even darker as the blood flow ceased.
Using the harness as a tie point, I anchored her wrists and feet to it
effectively hogtying her to the ottoman. I then took a few more ropes
and strapped her to the ottoman using the steel tie-down rings. Again
the ball gag came out. She sniffled, but opened her mouth when
prompted to let the invader in. I had wavered at the last moment on
whether to use a penis gag, but since this was going to be mostly a
whipping punishment, I didn't want to obstruct airflow too much, and
the penis gag would have been a little too unsafe for what I had in
mind.
She was moaning already. Her stiff joints crying out because of the
extreme position I had placed her in. Her body ached, her tits
especially as they were sore to begin with, but now tied up and all of
her weight on them.
I walked over to the wall. She craned her head up to try and follow my
movements, although it was difficult for her to keep that position. I
started handling all of my whipping instruments, pausing at each one
as I listened for the changes in her breathing. Once or twice I
stopped and fondled the rod, enjoying the quickened breath and the
mewing moans of her begging through the ball gag before moving on to
another instrument.
The rod truly was the most vicious instrument in my collection. It
seemed a shame that I had quickly elevated the cunt into that realm of
punishment, but I had needed to break her and nothing put the fear of
Master into her better than that rod.
I returned to the rod and pulled it ceremoniously off the wall hook.
She groaned and again started to shake. Time for another rule. I
placed the rod's end in front of her face. "Kiss it," I said.
She hesitated, but with a deep dread she jerked her neck forward
awkwardly and touched the rod with her drooling ball gag.
I circled her a few times. I think she started to realize that in the
hogtied position, her ass was safe from my swings. Her tits were
relatively protected as well. I had planned not to hit her in those
areas, the damage was already done there and she needed healing before
I inflicted more pain there. The pain, I knew, from the canings stayed
with the victim until the bruises started to fade, so even though the
caning had occurred several days ago, her body was still in constant
agony from it. It was a reminder to the slave, of the punishment.
Minute by minute, this past week she was reminded of why I had caned
her, the hurt, the anger, the humiliation, the breaking of rules, the
very fact that she was now a slave, always there as the aches and
pains coursed through her body.
I stopped behind her and to her side. Swirling the rod around my head
to make the whooshing noise, she tensed up. Then I tested it lightly
on the soles of her feet.
"I'm sure you have never heard of Bastinado before," I said. "It's
quite effective for punishment."
She groaned.
I measured my strike then started slowly and softly but quickly
brought the speed and intensity up to near maximum. She was bucking in
her bonds, trying to escape the growing searing heat of pain as I
continued to strike the soles of her feet with the rod. There as so
many nerve endings and small bones in the feet that this punishment
was very effective, without needing to exert a lot of energy in the
caning. I was quickly finished. Her feet were red and purple as I
placed the rod in front of her face again. "Kiss it and thank the rod
for punishing you." I said.
It took a few moments of sniveling and snorting to touch it with her
ball gag and to compose herself enough to grunt the thank you through
her gag.
I placed the rod back on the wall hook and then pulled out a black
leather hood.
"Not that I need to explain anything to you, but I feel that you need
to think about your punishment and why what you did was wrong."
I placed the hood over her head, easy since she was bald, and I then
went about lacing the hood tight from behind. The hood had zippers,
for eyes, mouth and nose. I closed the zippers for the eyes, but kept
the nose and mouth just free enough for her to be able to breathe.
I bent down to her ear. "Stupid cunt, you are a slave. You do as
you're told and you follow the rules. There is no excuse for breaking
them. If you pass out because of lack of food and water, it's your
Master's problem, not yours. You're my property. If you can't hold
your piss, it's because Master wants you to loose control and piss the
floor so he can beat you. Quit rationalizing everything. You are a
slave. You exist to serve me, not to fucking think. You didn't get
very far with your own brain. Failed miserably, you did. Now I do the
thinking for you. All you do is what I tell you to, no fucking more."
She tried to grunt a "yes, Master." through the gag as I got up.
"You can sit here for a while. You don't have much of a choice, and
think about how you fucked up. Feel the pain going through your body.
Enjoy your punishment cunt."
I left her to struggle in her bonds as the pain from all her beatings
conspired against her and now raged against her body and mind.
Over the next few days, she was extremely docile. Chastened by the
bastinado, she limped around my house doing her chores. Her body was
one big ugly bruise. It was an improvement to her grotesque
unblemished form. Each evening after I put her to sleep, she would
masturbate herself to orgasm thinking I was none the wiser. Thursday
evening I came home and showered and had her help me dress into a nice
outfit.
"I'm going out on a date, cunt." I said as she helped me into a button
shirt. She drew a breath and then came round my front to button it for
me. "Yes...Master." She whispered.
"She's a young thing, very tight body, nice long brunette hair, almost
as nice as your's used to be." I needled her. I could see in her face
the sense of loss, the loss of her hair, the loss of my attraction to
her, the waste she had squandered.
"Of course she is far sexier than you ever were. And she can fuck
forever. The bitch just wears me out."
She remained silent as she helped me with my pants.
"In fact," I said. "I will not be back tonight, slave. I'm feeling
generous with you, I guess I'm in a happy mood, so for tonight, after
your chores are done, you are allowed to cook yourself something to
eat and you may drink as much tap water as you like. You then may use
the bathroom once to piss and shit, then you may go to sleep. Don't'
forget to read a chapter of your book."
"Yes, Master." She said.
"Have you enjoyed your book?" I asked.
She looked up to me with a grateful look. "Oh yes, Master! I am
learning how to become the best slave I can be for you."
I smiled as she went back to working tying my shoes. All ready, I left
her to her chores for the evening.

I came home after lunch on Friday to collect slave. She had a dentist
and doctor's appointment scheduled, even though she didn't know it. I
carried with me a sack of some goodwill shapeless clothes for the
cunt. She greeted me in the usual manner, though a little confused as
to why I was home so early. I threw her the bag of clothes and told
her to go get dressed in the pantry.
She came out momentarily with the most garish looking sack of a dress
and some mismatched boxy shoes. Limping out, the shoes seemed to pinch
her still sore feet. To top off the outfit which was a dated fusia
color with some stains on it, was a broad rimmed straw hat to hide her
hideous bald head.
Confused, I told he that we had the appointments for her and that I
needed to check how diseased my property was. She was a little
concerned and embarrassed to go out in public with the outfit I had
chosen for her, but when I suggested that her other choice was to go
naked, she quickly dropped the matter.
We stood out, she was the bag lady, and I was still smartly dressed in
my work clothes. She felt all the eyes on her as she imagined them
wondering what a sophisticated young good looking man was doing with
an old ugly bag lady. She realized yet again that I was out of her
league; that everyone was out of her league.
The doctor checkup and dentist check up went smoothly enough. A few
raised eyebrows from the doctor, but he had known my penchant for
rough play. He did not like the state of her body when she had
stripped down for him to examine her. I am a good patient though and
have sent him a lot of kink business, so discretely he pulled me aside
and questioned me about her. I assured him that she was free to
question her to see if I was abusing her, she was of course free to go
whenever she liked. He did question her and asked about the bruises.
She quickly without any prompting from me said that they were deserved
and that she had been punished for breaking the rules. She added that
she was fine with the treatment and that she would comply with
whatever I wanted of her.
The doctor sighed, knew that it was useless to try to talk her out f
it, to him, kink people were just wired differently and one persons
pain was another's pleasure. She had a full work up done, tested for
everything, Herpes, Gonorrhea, HIV, Hepatitis, all the other STD's and
ailments that hard living could have inflicted on her.
He gave her a shot of antibiotics just to be on the safe side and also
to help the healing of her skin.
The dental visit was quick, she had two cavities and few fillings that
needed to be replaced, when I asked how much and he answered me, I
inquired about removing all of her teeth instead. The dentist laughed
it off, thinking I was joking, slave however, knew that a new idea had
popped into my sick mind to germinate.

On the way home, I made it point to drive slowly by the bar that the
loan sharks used as their place of business. I suggested I treat her
to a beer at the bar, and she politely, almost frantically refused.
She wanted no part of the bar and who was in it. I shrugged, and took
her back to my home. Once home, she asked me if she could remove the
clothes I had gotten for her. To her, the clothing just accentuated
her ugliness. I complied and the evening went just like all the other
evenings.

Saturday morning slave brought my breakfast in and knelt before me
while I ate. I was curious as to her mindset, I pretty much had a good
idea what she was feeling, since I manipulated everything, but as a
good Dom, it was always wise to check in with the slave now and then.
"It's been over a week now, cunt, do you still think you made the
correct decision?"
She still flinched when I called her that but she answered me.
"Master, I think I did make the correct decision. Even though you have
hurt me, I feel that I have deserved the punishments you have given
me."
"And if you didn't deserve the punishments?" I proffered.
She gathered her thoughts together and then said, "I would still
deserve them."
"Oh?" I asked wanting her to explain.
"You are the Master, whatever you do to me, I would still take."
Hmmm interesting, I thought, I urged her to continue to explain to me
how she was feeling about everything.
"I am truly grateful for Master to take me into his protection. If not
for you, I'm sure I would be dead or worse by falling into the hands
of those loan sharks."
She was still terrified by them, and why not, they killed off her boy
friend and even though that was the dick that had been fucking my
wife, death was still wrong.
"And your chores and rules? How are you getting on with them? Be
honest." I asked.
"I..."
"I find them very challenging, Master. The rules are simple, but they
affect everything I do, so they can seem complex at times."
"You are quite a stupid slave." I added. Although I had given her a
little freedom to tell me how she felt, I still needed to remind her
that I was in charge and this was a rare privilege for her.
"Yes, Master. I am quite stupid and I am always grateful and thankful
that you put up with my stupidity and ugliness. You have saved my
life, and taken back the wife who hurt you so unjustly..."
I jumped out of my bed, plates and food flying everywhere, and grabbed
her by the throat. Wrestling her down to the floor, she in a prone
position, eyes bugging out from the shock and violence of my
movements, I cut off her air supply. "You CUNT!" I roared.
She scrambled for my fingers around her throat, her face turning a
bright red and quickly darkening to purple. I slapped her hands away,
then slapped her face until she dropped her hands to her sides. Panic
and terror were in her eyes.
"ONE! I have not taken back my wife. She is dead to me, and doesn't
exist! TWO! You will not keep throwing that in my face. I know what
that wife whore of mine did to me. If I choose to commiserate about my
pain, it certainly won't be with a subhuman like you. You fucking
cunt! This is not penance that you are doing. I'm not letting you off
the hook in the future. Any fucking thoughts of returning to what
normal life you might have had with me before that whore wife fucked
that dead dick head better be nipped in the bud right fucking now. You
will NEVER be anything other than my slave. I OWN your ass. You have
two hundred years till you can pay me back, and even then, if I could
keep you alive for that long, you would still be the cunt slave
unworthy of anything other than serving her Master!"
I was livid, spitting my words into her now almost lifeless mouth. She
was a dark blue, her lips purple, her eyes weren't focused on
anything. I let go over her and she gasped for air. Panting and
coughing, she rolled onto her stomach and slowly got her wits about
her.
I stepped over her and went to shower. "Clean this shit up." I ordered
her as I slammed the door to the bathroom behind me.
The bitch got to me. Fuck! I had lost my cool there. My wife really
had done a number on me. This revenge business was great, but it
didn't seem to be healing me. Fuck! Why couldn't I just move on? I
took a very long shower, till the hot water ran out. I got out of the
bathroom to find her kneeling prostrate before me, the bed had been
changed and all traces of the mess had been cleaned up.
She was sobbing, begging for my forgiveness. She had learned her
lesson and would heed it well.
I sat down on the bed, clamed her down as she knelt between my legs.
Once she was composed I said. "Do you know why I call you just slave,
cunt, slut or whore?"
"No, Master," she sniffled.
"You haven't earned a name yet," I said. "As my property it is my
right to name you. You used to be my ex-wife, but now you are nothing.
You're life before this is gone. You were a right fuck up with it so
we are now destroying its existence. I am training you to NEVER be
that person ever again. That thing was weak, lacked discipline, ugly,
and stupid. That thing could not exist in the real world. You, slave
are just now realizing that. The world is no place for people like
you. You need discipline, order, a Master. Maybe you can become a good
slave. Somehow I doubt that, but I will work with you. I have no
choice. You are mine, to do with as I see fit. You have relinquished
you mind and body to me. Perhaps you might give me your soul at some
point..." She nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes Master, you have that as
well."
I looked at her. "I'm not sure I want your soul just yet. It is still
an ugly soul, tainted, perverse, hurtful." She was despondent at that
remark.
"I cannot say if I will ever forgive you, cunt. I do know that what
that whore did to me killed a part of me, and that will never be
recovered."
She sobbed and again apologized. This was a good technique to split
the personality, force the new slave personality to hate the past
personality, to literally have the slave persona kill off the old one,
a rebirth of sorts, a cutting out of the cancer that was what she once
was. I was constantly getting her to hate herself, who she was, and
getting her to accept who she could become.

"I do know that you have given yourself to me for my protection. I
take my deals seriously as that whore should have known. I honored my
commitments then, and I will honor my commitment now. It's you who
will now honor your commitment to me."
"Yes, Master." She agreed.
I allowed her to piss and shit and then sent her to the living room to
stand on the coffee table while I went to the dungeon and brought out
a riding crop. It was tame in comparison to the rod, but the doctor
had warned me to let her skin heal before caning her again. I
proceeded to quiz her on the book she had been reading. She easily
rattled off whole quotes from the book, showing that she did indeed
pay attention and study the readings I had assigned her. I only
corrected her once with the crop, which she yelped when I hit her, but
was surprised that the swat didn't pack as much of a sting as the rod.
I told her that I was pleased with her exam, and that she may continue
with the readings and her chores. She thanked me, and rushed off to
get her work done, beaming with a big grin on her face.

In the afternoon, I told her to take a shower, cleaning herself
thoroughly. She was getting a bit rank smelling and unpleasant.
Afterwards I had her prepare dinner for three. She readied herself in
the kitchen following the meal selections I had made and stayed in
there until the doorbell rang. "Answer the door!" I called to her.
She came out of the kitchen and with a pink face answered the door and
escorted Rusty and his female assistant into the living room before
me. Rusty's assistant, a bitchy little tattooed tease of a girl, all
of maybe twenty seven years of age, examined slave with an upturned
nose and a disgusted look. "What a waste of effort." She said. Slave
quickly resumed her duties in the kitchen while also serving us drinks
the proper way. Rusty's assistant was named Teresa, and she and Rusty
had been on and off ever since she had taken the spot work from him on
his projects. She had trained as a welder in art school and helped
Rusty out with his designs and work.
I allowed slave to enter the dinning room this time, to serve me and
my guest's dinner. She was to wait on her knees in the kitchen until
called for. After dinner, slave was instructed to stand on the coffee
table again.
"Think the table will hold her and her weight?" Sneered Teresa.
Rusty examined her, bruised flesh and all and commented that she was
quite hairy down there.
"Right," I said. "Let's shave her so we can continue."
We pushed her down on the table; quickly we tied her limbs to each leg
of the table. She was bent over backwards, legs spread apart with an
unobstructed view and access to her cunt.
I gathered up some warm water, shaving cream and a razor.
Rusty grabbed my arm and suggested we let Teresa do the honors. She
smiled an evil grin, and took the materials from me. Digging into her
purse she pulled out a straight-razor and opened and closed it
menacingly. Slave whimpered as Teresa grabbed her chin and threatened
her not to act up or move down there. It would be a shame if she
"accidentally" sliced off her clit."
Slave, terrified, nodded.
I cuffed her in the face. As she was blinking back tears I admonished
her. "You'll call her and any other woman who is not a slave Mistress,
followed by their names, since you can't seem to get that right, I'll
save you the brain power and tell you to call her Mistress Teresa.
Same goes for men. Got it?"
"Yes, Master. Yes Mistress Teresa."
Teresa smiled. "Oh, this is going be fun. A shame she is so fat and
old and ugly!"
She proceeded to wet and lather her up, paying special attention to
slaves pussy lips and clit hood. It must have felt really good as
slave started to pant. Her eyes glazed over, while Teresa played her
to the edge of orgasm then denied her, moving over to another area to
massage and manipulate. "Does that feel good, cunt?" Teresa mocked.
Panting, slave said. "Yes, Mistress Teresa, thank you!"
Teresa then began shaving her with the straight-razor. Again she
warned slave to stay still. While she shaved all the hair off slave,
her other hand kept playing with slaves clit, in short time, her clit
was standing proud, anxious, desperate, and exposed away from her
hood.
"Look!" cried Teresa. "The little slut is getting off on this!"
We gathered around her crotch. Rusty chimed in. "Dirty cunt. Such
fucking animal instincts. Looks like we got the gift finished just in
time."
I looked at slave. "Slave, I didn't know you got off on women."
She shook her head frantically. She had been kept on the edge of
orgasm for quite sometime now. "N...n...nooo, Master...I...don't like..."
Teresa gently ticked her clit, sending a shock wave of ecstasy through
her taunt tied down body. "..w.wwaa...wwoo..men..." she finished.
"Really?" I said. "You could have fooled me. Just look at you slut.
You're fucking in heat. Your mouth says no, but your body says yes."
She just rolled her eyes back into her head, and quickly Teresa
stopped all attention down there. A groan escaped from slave's mouth,
something guttural, animal. She had been denied again. Teresa let her
calm down a little bit, then finished off the shaving. All dried up
and cleaned off, her smooth pussy was now hairless. We could continue.
We untied her and had her stand back up on the coffee table. A few
times we slapped her hands away from her crotch as she tried to relive
herself and the edge that she was straddling. She had thanked Mistress
Teresa for the shave and now awaited the next step, whatever that may
be. Rusty pulled out a hooped shaped device, made some adjustments
then he and Teresa looped it around slaves waist. Adjusting it on her
waist until it was snug, they then took out another device in the
shape of a U. That attached to both the front and the back of the belt
around her waist forcing the curve up under her crotch. After some
more adjustments, Teresa teased and prodded, and pulled slaves pussy
lips through a slit in the metal U. Once it was sticking out, she took
a hex key and tightened the slot to hold the pussy lips and clit out
through the slit.
She handed me the hex key. "Use this when cleaning her. The whole
section can be removed should you wish her to be fucked, although I
can't imagine anyone wanting to fuck that."
I pocketed the key as slaves face grew red in shame. Turning her
around, Rusty made some adjustments to her backside. There was a steel
bar that swung down from the waist and locked into the pussy plate.
There was a small attachment point right in front of her anus. Rusty
pointed it out to me and then opened a case of "Training" plugs to be
used and locked into her anus.
"It has two benefits." He said. "One of course is to stretch the
asshole of hers out for fucking. The other is for toilet training.
With one of these plugs locked up her ass, no shit will be coming out
until you want it to!"
I smiled, and slave whimpered.
"Of course most people just administer enemas to their slaves so that
there's no need for them to take a shit. One enema every morning
usually does the trick." He pulled out a bag containing enema
supplies. Slaves eyes grew as she spotted them, but she had learned to
keep quiet.
The final piece was the locking shield that covered the pussy plate.
Teresa did the honors, and as she explained what it did, slave finally
realized that what she was being locked into was a chastity belt.
The shield contained enough space so that the pussy that had been
pulled through the plate, clit and vulva, now rested in a hollow space
where no amount of adjustments would allow her pussy or clit to be
touched with the shield on. The shield had microholes for drainage for
when she had to piss. The holes were too small to allow a stream of
water to come in, thus preventing a water massage to achieve
stimulation and orgasmic bliss.
We let her down from the coffee table and had her walk around with it
on for a while. Teresa constantly checked to see if there was any
rubbing. She also teased slave by playing with other parts of her
body, tweaking her nipples, caressing her breasts and inner thighs.
She had raised slave up to an impossible edge of teasing, keeping her
there as slave paraded around the living room going though an entire
range of motion to make sure the belt fit properly.
Once Rusty and Teresa were satisfied, he handed me over the keys to
the belt. I made a big show of offering slave as a tip for their work.
The belt had cost me a great deal and I made sure that slave knew
that. True to form, slave blanched, Teresa stared her down for a long
moment like a cat at a mouse, and then they both declined. She was too
disgusting to be accepted as a tip.
I gave slave a nasty look. She continued to cause me embarrassment.
She immediately read my thoughts and cast her eyes down in shame.
I thought an explanation was in order for the belt, and doing it in
front of Rusty and Teresa would add to the shame for slave.
"Slave you have been the naughty little slut." I said. I motioned for
her to kneel in the middle of the room. She was a little confused, as
usual.
Teresa, Rusty, I'll let you in on a little secret." They looked at me,
slave looked at me. I looked directly into slaves eyes.
"This little slut gets off on all the abuse I've put her through.
She's been in need of a firm hand all her life and it finally took her
to hit rock bottom before she realized this. All of the abuse, all of
the rules, training and punishment, all the name calling turns this
little slut on."
"No, Master..." she whispered.
"Oh, it's true. What's more is she's been hiding this from me."
"No, Master..." she whimpered.
"Oh yes, slave." I continued. "Every night, every single night, when I
put her to bed in her pantry and turn out the light, the little slut
fingers herself to sleep. The little cum slut is turned on by her new
life!"
"No!" cried Teresa.
Rusty shook his head.
Slave's eyes almost bugged right out of her skull. A giant gasp
escaped her mouth. Her mouth flopped open and closed, she didn't know
what to say, to say anything, to shut up, discovered!
"She of course didn't think I knew. She was so quiet. The lights were
all off. The camera, however is infrared you stupid slut. I saw you!"
She confessed to me now, crawled over to my feet, begging me, calling
herself stupid.
Teresa screamed at her, Rusty called her a stupid worm. In his eyes
she could not be a slave, how could an insect become dog? It just
couldn't happen.
I played hurt again. How could she not think that I wouldn't know. I
was her Master, I knew everything. I knew when she ate, when she
pissed, when she shit. Didn't she think that I would know when she
came?
She was in tears. She had failed me yet again. She begged me for
forgiveness. She had been so horny. She couldn't help herself. She was
afraid of telling me for fear that I would be angry with her. She
looked up at me her eyes watery, her ugly stubble of a head, hoping
and praying that I would take pity on her.
"A slave must tell her Master everything. There are no secrets to be
kept from Master. I could have helped you with this problem, but now I
know it's too late. Now I have to deal with the problem myself."
She sobbed and agreed with her Master.
"If slave keeps any secrets from Master, then if anything were to
happen to damage Master's property, Master would be liable. After all,
I am responsible for you, aren't I"
"Yes, Master." She said.
"So no more secrets?"
"No, Master." She agreed.
"It's your duty to tell me everything, nothing is too minor. If your
tummy is rumbling, you tell me, god knows you might have a health
condition, we still are awaiting those test results."
"Yes, Master." She said.
"Test results?" Rusty asked.
"The little slut needed to be checked out to see if she's clean. She's
been whoring it up for god knows how long."
Teresa snorted. "She's the type that gives women a bad name." Then to
slave, "If you were mine cunt, I would castrate you and cut out your
fucking tongue!"
Slave slid closer to my legs for protection.
"If the fucking doorbell rings when I'm not home, you fucking tell me.
Anything and fucking everything. You don't have a brain to decide
what's important and what isn't. You have given the right over to me.
I DECIDE!"
"Yes Master," she said.
"Now, as far as your little present. It stays on until I decide if and
when to take it off. I will take the shield off for regular cleaning,
but as you have already noticed, touching your dirty filthy self for a
cummy is no longer possible."
"The belt looks good on the cunt." Said Teresa. "You ever think about
adding some ink to her flesh? Maybe some piercings?
Slave shivered.
"Perhaps her first tattoo should be "Slut-Whore" right on her dirty
pussy." She offered.
I told her that I would have to think about that.
Slave continued to try to melt away.
Teresa gleefully took slave into the bathroom and instructed her on
how to give herself an enema. Before going in, she rushed off to my
dungeon room and came back with a nasty short little crop. Rusty and I
had a few beers while Teresa took great pains in instructing slave on
what was now going to be her daily morning ritual.
The evening quickly wrapped up after that, with me promising that
Teresa could come by soon to check the progress of the belt and
perhaps show slave a trick or two. Slave blushed and then thanked each
of them for the chastity belt and instruction by kissing them on their
boots. Quickly after they left I sent her to bed, secure in the
knowledge that her pussy and libido would be getting no attention
tonight.

Sunday morning, after breakfast, I supervised slave administering her
first enema to herself. We took our time and I made sure that she did
things properly. Once done and cleaned up, I sent her off on her
chores. The lab results from her tests were due today, and I called
into the lab to get the results.
I called her into the living room and had her assume her kneeling
position.
"Slave, I just received your lab results."
She was anxious.
"Is there anything you wish to tell me before I reveal them to you?"
She wracked her brain, trying to figure out anything that might shed
light on the results.
"No, Master. I don't know."
I kept my face unreadable until I broke the news.
"I'm happy to say that you are clean. No STD's and your blood looks
ok. I guess that's something, huh?"
She smiled, relieved that she was healthy.
Over the next week, I noticed that slave's personality had changed a
bit. She was tenser, yet more docile. She was always flushed now; more
attentive. She was learning well. I mentioned this to her and made the
comment that now her sexually energy was being directed into learn my
training, rather than pleasuring her dirty needs.
She seemed always short of breath, constantly aroused, yet unable to
do anything about it. The video of her in her pantry after lights were
out revealed that she tried to get to her pussy every evening but was
thwarted by the belt. Crying in shame and frustration, she often fell
asleep with her hands rubbing her body and trying to rub her needy
pussy through the belt.
She had finished the first book, basically a manual for new slaves.
The second book I made sure to assign to her was a sexy novel of a
woman placed in a predicament pretty similar to what slave now found
herself in. It was filled with juicy erotica and I just knew that she
would get into it and bring herself to frustration even more.

Friday night Teresa came over. I had invited her over for the weekend.
Teresa was a dangerous type. She was submissive, but she also enjoyed
topping other woman. She and I had played a few times, and I had come
to know her as a cruel person when she was topping someone. Teresa,
for her part, relished the opportunity to whip slave into shape. She
had been disgusted by slave when she had first set eyes on her, and
knowing what type of Master I was, what type of lover I was, she felt
that slave did not deserve such a great man as I. Relegated to the
fact that I was stuck with her, Teresa took a particular interest in
my training project.

In fact Teresa had begged me to let her be a part of it. She had
worked on me almost all week long. The arrangement for the weekend was
that Teresa would be first slave in my stable, Master's first choice
and slave would have to answer to Mistress Teresa, as well as me.
Mistress Teresa wanted to show slave what it meant to be a slave, how
they acted, and she also wanted to work some of her vindictiveness out
on slave. Teresa could be jealous and possessive, and seeing me with
the ugly excuse for a slave, reminded her that at one point Teresa
could have been my slave. That decision of hers still played out in
her mind, and she felt a regret from her decision from time to time.

For me, the weekend would be a welcome relief. Truth be told, it is
difficult work training new slaves. A lot of energy is given by the
Master and all of that is taken by the slave. But in the beginning of
a relationship, the slave almost gives nothing back. Emotionally it's
draining. For me, Teresa would be a good fuck, something I had been
missing, and she imported fresh enthusiastic energy into my house and
the training of slave.
I had told slave the plan Friday morning, and allowed her to plan a
dinner for our company. She asked me if she should make up the guest
bedroom, to that I replied that Mistress Teresa would be sharing my
room.
She was silent, then replied sadly, "Yes, Master."

Teresa pulled her car into my garage and entered through the garage
entry. Slave was kneeling at the entry and greeted Mistress Teresa
just like I had instructed her. Teresa acknowledged her then ordered
her out to her car to unload all of her bags and to bring them up to
Master's bedroom. Slave scurried away, as Teresa formally greeted me
as her weekend Master. I greeted her and drew her to me onto my lap
embracing her and giving her a passionate kiss which she returned with
even more enthusiasm. Slave came through the garage and saw us there,
in the moment, the reality of her status hitting her like a ton of
bricks. She had never seen her husband with another woman before.
Those kisses used to belong to her and her only. Once again another
level of despair hit her as she realized what it was that she threw
away and lost.
Teresa was first to notice her watching them. She broke my embrace and
yelled at slave. "Don't just fucking stand there, cunt! Get my bags up
to Master's and Mistress' room." It was like a slap to her face. She
yelped and scurried up the stairs with bags in hand.
She faced me again, grabbing my bottom lip in her teeth and giving me
a juicy slurp.
"Oh my god Master, I have so been looking forward to this!"
I smacked her on the ass, grabbing a good portion of cheek and kissed
her again.
"That's good slave, I'm looking forward to you changing gears on the
little cunt."
I lifted her up, still in my arms and she quickly wrapped her legs
around my waist. I carried her to the dungeon room, brushing by my
nearly invisible slave who had just exited the bedroom headed back to
the garage for another load of bags from Mistress Teresa's car.
I dropped Teresa down on the leather ottoman and quickly commanded her
to suck my cock. It had been a while and I wanted to shoot one off so
that we could get that out of the way. She fished it out and went to
work on it. She gobbled it up like her life depended on it. There was
a sexual urgency to her, and anticipation that had been working on her
all week long that finally exploded into her mouth and body.
With that out of the way, I bid her to look around and choose what she
wanted from my arsenal of devices. Tonight she would have free reign
on slave, and I was eager to see what she would do and how slave would
react. Teresa smiled and admitted that she had thought about what she
was going to do and had prepared by bringing along some toys as well.
I smiled and did something I rarely do. I gave her free access to my
dungeon room. She was extremely complimented and did a quick inventory
of gear and furniture. Certainly I had things in here that she had
never played with before and now was perhaps her one and only chance
to take advantage of it.
I took dinner in the kitchen at the table. Teresa and slave were
required to eat their meals off of dishes on the floor. Teresa, after
all may have been first slave, but she was still my slave this
weekend.
After dinner I had slave wash up and then report to me in the living
room where Teresa knelt between my legs slurping slowly on my cock. I
motioned slave to kneel and watch us. The look on her face was
priceless. It was a traumatic mixture of jealousy, humiliation,
sadness, loss and frustration. Teresa had changed into a slippery
black latex short dress, the hem of the dress riding up over her ass
as she knelt and deep throated my cock. I had her play with herself,
and one of Teresa's hands dropped down between her legs as she played
with her glistening sweet pussy. She too was shaved. I glanced over to
slave, her eyes dropped and her face flushed red with embarrassment.
"Slave Teresa has earned the right to cum. That's a privilege you
don't have slut!"
"Yes, Master." She whispered.
Soon Teresa came all over her fingers. Catching her breath, I pulled
her up to my face and kissed her deeply while I smacked her ass
briskly. The echo of my hand hitting that taunt, latex covered rear,
reverberated off the walls of the living room.
Still embracing Teresa, I called slave over to me.
"Mistress Teresa will be taking over training of you this weekend. She
is your Sister Slave in my household, but more importantly, she is
First Slave. Do you know what that means cunt?"
"Yes, Master." She said. "Although she is a slave, she has authority
over all other slaves in a household only overridden by Master
himself. What she says must be carried out by other slaves."
"Correct," I said as I kissed Teresa again. "Slave Teresa, I know that
you have been eager for this moment to begin." I gave her another deep
kiss, slapped her in the face just to get her juices pumping and then
said. "You may now begin your training of slave. I expect both of you
to perform to your very best abilities. If I see either one of you
slacking off, I will beat the both of you, regardless of whose fault
it is."
They both agreed and then I allowed Teresa to disentangle herself from
my grasp.
She stood imperiously before slave only now revealing the high heeled
black leather pumps she wore to give her even more authority.
"Kiss my feet slave. Greet your Mistress properly and beg her to train
you for your own good. Lick my toes and clean my shoes with your mouth
and tongue, and convince me that you want this!" she sneered.
Slave bent down and greeted her new Mistress Teresa. She begged,
thanked, licked, sucked and kissed the feet of her new Mistress. I
floated into the background watching with keen interest and eroticism.
Despite how big and mean men are, how strong they are, I always found
women to be even more cruel and vindictive to another woman than any
man could ever be. They just always knew how to push other woman's
buttons. Already, Teresa had rained down a verbal assault to the slut
cunt slave.
"That's right bitch, lick your Mistress's shoes and feet. That's all
you're fucking good for! Did you like seeing your ex-husband getting
his dick sucked? You aren't even worthy enough to suck his cock, so
I'm told. I mean, what good is a slave, if they aren't even allow to
suck and pleasure their Master's dick? That's Slave 101, isn't it
slave?"
"Yes, Mistress Teresa." She said in between licks.
"Mistress will do just fine, cunt."
"Yes Mistress."
"I have never heard of a Master who had a slave that didn't suck
cock..." she continued in on slave. "I mean I've seen slaves that were
so bad at sucking cock that their Master would skip over that, but
your Master has been bottled up for over a week, no one to release his
cum, to swallow his seed, and he has a slave, here in his home, and
she is not even worthy of doing the most basic of worship and pleasure
to her Master."
"Yes, Mistress," she sobbed. She was worse than a slave. How could she
call herself one when he had not even allowed her to do the most basic
of tasks.
"So what are you then? You clearly aren't a slave. You can't even do
that? Master is disgusted by you. You even squandered away your
orgasms because while your Master slept frustrated and pent up, you
had the gall to finger your dirty ugly hairy slit to orgasm every
night. You denied your Master pleasure and took your own?"
She was crying but still sucked on Teresa's heels. "Yes Mistress. I'm
not worthy. I have been selfish. I'm not a slave!"
Teresa smiled and stepped away from slave. Looking down at her tear
stained face she smiled. "Good. Now you know what you aren't, let's
see if I can maybe form you into something you aspire to be."
"Thank you Mistress." She cried. "Thank you for showing me what I
truly am."
"Clear those tears away girl. For this weekend, you shall be titled
"girl". You have not earned the title of slave yet. Teresa looked back
at me for approval. I smiled and nodded my approval. Just fucking
brilliant. What had taken me a week to strip down emotionally, Teresa
took twenty minutes. Leave it to a woman to break another woman!

Teresa had spoken to me frankly over the week of her plans. She had
heard the story of my cheating wife and was inclined to hate her from
the very moment she met her. Over the course of the evening of the
chastity belt fitting, she had observed several things wrong in my
training of "girl". I must admit that I was blinded by her
observations and we both rightfully concluded that emotionally I still
was off my game with my ex-wife. I had been too lenient with her, too
lax in my training. Teresa knew me better. She had told me that it was
like seeing a broken down NASCAR trying to drag race a street rod. She
knew my game was so much better and she offered to help me, since
clearly there was too much history between "girl" and me.
She sent girl up to "our" bedroom to bring back her black leather
duffle bag. Quickly she returned. Teresa then sent girl into the
bathroom to piss and shit (since the enemas, girl was doing very
little of the shitting!). Digging through her bag, she pulled out a
spray can of liquid adhesive and a bright pink bobbed wig.
I raised my eyebrow, to which she replied. "I know you enjoy seeing
her at her ugliest, but it's too much for me." I nodded my assent.
She marched into the bathroom and after a few minutes escorted girl
out to the living room with the bright pink wig adhered to her bald
head. "Don't worry about the itching, that doesn't go away." Teresa
cheerfully volunteered.
"Yes, Mistress." Girl said.
She had girl spin around for us. She asked my opinion of the wig. I
called it ridiculous and laughed. Girl turned bright red.
"I think it's an improvement Master." Teresa said. She fused with the
hair getting certain strands to sit just so. "She was too ugly all
bald and stubbly. With those saggy tits, paunchy stomach and sex
hidden behind her belt, she needed a bit of a feminine touch."
The next two hours Teresa, with vigor taught girl all new positions.
There was a special position for all sorts of things. All of them
could be called upon by special hand signals or short words. Drilling
girl relentlessly, Teresa taught her how to recognize not only the
commands for those positions, but also the appropriate times and
events when she would be relied upon to strike a proper position
without any command. The way we explain it to new slaves is that they
are suddenly placed in a situation where most of the communication
skills, i.e. talking has become restricted. The positions were like
nonverbal communications. Each position relayed a particular emotion
or feeling.

Teresa motioned her hand into the signal for begging, and girl
promptly dropped to her knees and threw her hands up in the begging
position. Teresa lowered here hand down, and girl dropped out of the
begging position and lowered herself down till her face was touching
the ground, her hands stretched out on the floor before her. Teresa
then turned around and faced me.
"I hope Master is pleased with my progress," Teresa said.
Until girl was specifically instructed by some form of communication
to change positions, she would have to stay prostate on the ground.
I smiled and gave Teresa a hand command of her own. She obeyed and
peeled off her latex mini dress and presented herself at my feet. I
took off my clothes while she didn't move a muscle, while she kept an
eye on girl for any break in position.
Once undressed I laid down on the sofa and with another hand gesture
Teresa was instructed to come over and mount me.
To neither of our surprises, I was both rock hard and she was soaking
wet. Slowly she dropped herself on my member, moaning and groaning.
"Oh, Master! It feels so good! How could you keep this away from
everyone?"
My little slave started slowly bouncing on me, savoring each thrust.
My own groans and moans emanated from my throat. The hot little slut,
with her dragon tattoo all down her one side of her body, the kanji's
on her arms and chest, and her shaved pussy and pierced clit were a
beloved sight for my horny sore eyes.
Girl listened to our hot sex action. Our moaning and urgency increased
while she struggled to stay in position. As we started to peak, I
caught a glimpse of girl as she momentarily popped her head up to see
us, catching my gaze with her eyes, and suddenly realizing with shock
that she was discovered.
Continuing to fuck Teresa, I yelled out, "The dumb cunt broke
position! She looked up at us!"
Teresa screamed, partly from the news, partly from rage, and partly
from excitement of what she would now be able to do to girl. "CUNT!
You are fucking gonna get it after your ex-husband finishes fucking
me! OOOOOHHHHHHH!" Right at that moment we both came in a short
circuit of stars, sweat and deep breaths. We were loud, messy and
beside ourselves as I pumped my hot cum inside her pussy.
Girl, shaken for breaking the rules, shaken for seeing her husband
fucking another woman for the first time, shaken to her core as she
realized the pain she had cause, stayed face planted to the ground in
her position, the position she must not break again until taken out of
that position.
A few minutes later, after we had caught our breath, Teresa looked for
permission to continue her training and punishment of girl. I nodded
as she barked at girl to get out of position and to present herself to
her Master and Mistress.
Still joined together at the crotch, Teresa straddling my hips on top
of me laying on the couch, she spoke to girl.
"This next task, is not punishment bitch, in fact it is a great
fucking honor, so do not think for one moment that you are being
punished. Nor are you being treated. My task is to train you to be a
mediocre slave, one can only hope that you can rise to that station in
life, though I fucking doubt it. A slave's task is to clean up after
Master and Mistress fucks. This is normally a treat, but for tonight
you must learn how to do this properly, lest I fail in my
responsibilities, and if I fail because of you, you will wish you were
never born! Flaying you alive is not the only pain I can inflict on
your pathetic body. A woman knows all the secret sensitive spots a man
could never begin to know, or understand...GOT IT?"
Girl gulped. "Yes, Mistress, thank you Mistress."
"Good, now in a moment I will roll off Master. You will have to clean
us up with your tongue. Master first of course then..."
"No," I said.
Teresa turned to me.
"No, Master?" she asked.
"Girl will not touch me down there." I said.
Teresa, understood, took a moment to think and then corrected herself.
"Master will be attended to by me. I will get off Master and will
swivel around to clean him, you will at that time, clean me out with
your tongue. Make sure you do not let any drip on the floor, you are
in big enough trouble for breaking position, cunt!"
"Yes, Mistress" Girl soberly said.
Swinging off me, Teresa knelt down on the floor next to the couch,
keeping her pussy muscles tight so that none of my seed would spill on
me, the couch or the floor, like a well trained slave would do, she
dropped her hot mouth down around my member and started cleaning as
she spread her muscled thighs open for girl to lie down on her back
and slide in under Teresa to lick her pussy clean.
Teresa begged my pardon as she had to stop frequently to correct
girl's technique. "She's had no experience, has she?" she admonished.
I shook my head. "I don't think so."
Teresa sighed. "It's like she doesn't even have a pussy of her own,
she so fucking clueless." With that she grabbed her crop from the end
table and laid down a few violent swats on the insides of girls upper
thighs. Girl moaned in pain.
Soon I was cleaned off and spit shined by Teresa and I swiveled away
so that she could refocus on girls training, who was trapped under
Teresa's legs licking and cleaning away.
After another ten minutes of Teresa's constant verbal adjustments and
criticisms, girl managed to make Teresa cum.
Teresa gave girl a hand command and girl scurried back to the center
of the room and awaited on her knees, eyes downcast, and her hands
resting on her thighs, which were spread a foot apart.
After resting a few minutes on the sofa in my embrace, Teresa moved
onto the punishment for girl's breaking of position. I instructed her
to change back into the black latex mini dress she had been wearing as
she looked scrumptious in it and more domly. After squeezing and
adjusting herself back into it, she fished through her bag and pulled
out a smaller bag which she laid out on the coffee table.
"Answer me girl! What happens now?"
Girl looked up into Teresa's eyes.
"Mistress Teresa must punish girl for breaking position."
"Hmmm, you didn't sound too sincere. Really Master, I can see why you
are tired of her already, so much energy put into training her and she
takes and takes and takes, no give back from her at all..."
I sighed, while girl blanched. She took a moment to let the words go
through her, her little rusty mind churning and then she dropped her
lips down to her Mistress' feet, kissing her shoes and said in a far
more sincere voice, "Please Mistress, I'm sorry I failed you and broke
my position. Please punish me so that I may be corrected for my
failures."
Teresa kept her face stone like, no emotion showing through.
"Hmmmm, I don't know, Master was that sincere enough?"
Girl begged some more, repeating her request to be corrected for her
transgression.
Teresa ordered girl back into the original position.
Swishing over to the coffee table and the little black bag, she bent
over giving both of us a view of what a woman's ass should look like,
and she dumped out the contents of the bag onto the coffee table.
"You're just going love these girl!" she said as she pulled out two
nasty looking rounded chrome clamps attached to each other with a long
chain.
"These are called clover camps, and what makes these so nice, girl, is
that they are designed so that once on, any tugging or pulling on them
tightens the clamps, making it pretty impossible to accidentally yank
them off!"
"Yes, Mistress, thank you Mistress." Girl said as her eyes followed
the swaying of the chain holding the clamps.
Squatting down, her latex dress riding up behind her, Teresa massaged
and pinched girls still nipples, the one area that had escaped
bruising from her breast whipping a week ago, until her nipples
wrinkled and stuck straight out hardened and ready to accept the
devious bite of the clover clamps. Placing one on, tightening it and
then following the chain to the other and placing that one on her
other nipple, Teresa gave the chain connected to the two clamps a
little tug to test the hold. The shot of pain from girl's nipples
raced right through her as she gasped at the sharp pain. Teresa, still
holding the chain, rose back up to her feet tugging girl upwards by
the chain. Girl understanding that this leash was implying her to
stand with her Mistress rose quickly to avoid any more pull and bite
of the clover clamps. Moaning she goose stepped around the living room
as Mistress led her through a series of pony type marches while
maintaining a good hold on the chain that attached to the clover
clamps.
After working up another sweat, Teresa allowed girl a short break,
having her rest on the floor in a less demanding position. The clamps
still on her, girl was having a difficult time keeping still due to
the numbing pain.
It was getting late, and I was tired and wished to retire to bed. I
ordered Teresa to clean up girl and to get ready for bed while I
climbed the stairs to my bedroom to get ready for sleep. I stopped off
at my dungeon room and pulled out some shackles and chains, then went
into my bedroom, stripped off my clothes and hopped into the shower to
clean myself off.
When I was finished and dried off, feeling relaxed and refreshed I
threw on my silk robe and locked a chain and shackle onto the
footboard of the bed. Once finished, I climbed into bed to await
Teresa.
Shortly, a knock at the bedroom door was heard and Teresa opened the
door after I acknowledged it, all fresh and showered and clean in her
own short silk bathrobe, with girl in tow by the clover clamps. A
little surprised at the sight of the pink haired, bruised fat girl,
Teresa, tentatively overstepped her bounds by asking me if, for girls
training sake, girl would be permitted to sleep on the floor at the
foot of Master's bed this evening to know what her true status was.
I was hesitant, for a moment, but trusted Teresa's instincts in this
matter and accepted her offer. Teresa turned to girl and told her to
fetch her sleeping blanket from the pantry and to come back quickly.
Girl scurried down the hall and stairs after a quick "Yes, Mistress,"
and returning quickly out of breath with her blanket.
I motioned to the chains and manacles on the chair and instructed
slave to chain girl down and to the bed frame, we wouldn't want her
wandering off in the middle of the night now, would we?
Once Teresa had attached cuffs and leg irons to girl she attached a
loose chain between them all and then locked the end to the foot of
the bed frame, giving her just a enough slack to change positions
while sleeping, but not enough to actually stand up or move around.
Once done, Teresa turned to girl and prompted her for a response.
"Thank you Master and Mistress for allowing me to sleep at the foot of
your bed." She said.
Teresa, with a wicked glee then reached down and took off the clover
clamps from girls nipples. She shrieked with pain as the blood rushed
back into the nipples forcing shooting pain into her sore breasts.
Teresa slapped the nipples until girl was sobbing, begging Mistress
that she had learned her lesson and thanking her for her punishment.
She wasn't done, though. Teresa smiled and fished through one of her
bags. "Master, I forgot to give you this little attachment when we
were here last time for the fitting..."

She rummaged a little more and pulled out what looked like a fat pen.
Taking the "pen" she bid girl to spread her thighs to expose her
shielded pussy. There was a small indent in the shield, a channel,
that with an ominous click, the fat pen locked flush to it. With a
small twist, a very faint buzzing could be heard coming from the pen.
Girl's eyes lit up and she moaned in lustful agony. "The batteries in
this are good for at least four hours. The vibrations are just faint
enough to keep our little controlled slut interested, but not enough
for her to cum. No cummies for you cunt!" She wagged her finger in
girls face.

That done, Teresa turned to me, and I grabbed her roughly and threw
her to the bed, yanked her leg out from under her and took the shackle
and locked her to it. The chain attached to it was short, enough for
her to move around on the bed, but she could not leave the bed. I
pulled my little captive slave into my arms as she mewed with demure
passion. Tired and spent, we fell asleep in each others arms smiling
at the events of the evening. Girl tossed and turned in her bonds,
stimulated and exited by the evenings events, suffering one final
torture and humiliation by being subjected to the wicked vibrator that
forced her lust and pussy to climb to the edge of the abyss without
falling over in orgasmic bliss.


I woke up to Teresa's mouth on my cock. Slurping and sucking, mouthing
and licking, there's no better way to be draw out of a deep slumber.
"Good morning, Master!" She said in between slurps.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm..." I adjusted myself to give her better access to my
crotch area.
She continued for a few more minutes as I regained my senses. I am not
a morning person! Presently I shooed her off me and pulled out the
keys to the padlocks that had kept my two captive slaves in their
places all night long. I unlocked Teresa and gave her the keys to
unlock girl, who had been watching us while kneeling from the foot of
the bed since I had awakened. Girl seemed to not have gotten much
sleep. Her eyes were more deep-set than usual, large dark circles were
under them and her face was puffy. The small vibrator had left her
tossing and turning as she had tried to claw her way through the
chastity belt to her tender sensitive screaming pussy and clit for
most the night. It had now been a week since her enforced chastity,
and she was really starting to suffer.
Teresa pouted, a little put off with me not allowing her to finish me
off, but with a heavy, embellished sigh, she rolled out of bed and
went to unlock girl from her chains and then force marched her
downstairs to the guest bathroom for her morning constitutionals and
enema.
I lay in bed for a little while longer, slowly stretching my muscles
out before feeling awake enough to paddle into my bathroom and soak
myself under a hot shower. By the time I was finished and getting
dressed, I was eager to see what Teresa had planned for girl today.
Teresa had always been a very creative thinker. A metal artist since
her second year in an arts college, she had been exposed to all sorts
of creative, weird, edgy, alternative people and she had quickly
gravitated towards the BDSM scene when a less than edgy girlfriend of
hers had taken her to a club on a dare. That first evening had
resonated with Teresa, while scaring her girlfriend away. With no one
to play tie up with, Teresa frequented the club playing both top and
bottom with both men and women. She had spent some time as a Mistress'
slave, but as she grew more mature, she found it increasingly
difficult to follow orders and respect other women whom she could
physically overpower. Working with steel, Teresa was uncommonly strong
and came to view the dainty femdomme "girls" with disdain. She now
only chose to submit to a very few maledoms of whom, I was very lucky
to be one. It wasn't the typical buff super strong maledoms that drew
Teresa's attraction; it was the creativity and inner strength that she
was able to radar onto. I have only been truly in the scene for about
two years. Early into my new lifestyle, Teresa had identified me as a
special someone who had potential. When I had later found out her
story and had asked her about what drew her to me, one of those after
session cuddling as we both worked ourselves down from the endorphins
and adrenaline highs,  she remarked that I had a callousness about
myself, I had carried myself well almost like a vanilla person, but
there was a cruelty deep in my eyes that belied an evil twisted hurt
man that was aching to take things out on someone. She saw me as a
challenge. Could she unleash the beast within me and survive him?

What she had witnessed last week of my composure when we fitted girl
with her belt, had saddened her. Emotionally I was still a wreck.
Seeing and dealing with my cheating wife, having her in my life now, a
constant reminder of her misdeeds, Teresa had immediately picked up on
my unusual mood, and haggard training of girl. She hated seeing me
like this and had overstepped a few boundaries in getting me to agree
to her taking up some of the training responsibilities. I didn't have
to be talked into it.
Truth be told, I welcomed it. Girl had reopened a wound that had never
really healed. Now I had committed to taking her back although not in
the form of relationship she had envisioned, and found myself second
guessing myself on decisions in training and punishment. What was it
that I really wanted? Certainly revenge coursed through my veins, but
what then? After all the humiliating acts, the brutal beatings, the
thousands of beggings and apologies from her, what would happen if,
god forbid, I forgave her? Was I really that weak? Could I really be
that strong?

Teresa flashed past my door on her way to the dungeon room reappearing
a moment later dangling some black leather gear and harnessing. When I
came downstairs, the first time I had descended from my bedroom in the
morning without having had breakfast, I was hungry and a little
grouchy. Teresa quickly scurried out from the kitchen and ran to kneel
before me, welcoming the Master of the house.
"Breakfast will be served momentarily, Master." She said at my feet.
"Would you wish to eat in the dining room?"
I scratched her head of black hair like a little pet, shook my head no
and grumbled that the living room would be fine, but that I needed
coffee fast, before I took my mood out on someone's hide.
Teresa excused herself, a little gleam in her eyes as she rushed back
to the kitchen to order girl to get Master's coffee ready. I plopped
down on my chair and tried to blink out the gunk in my eyes and to
regain some focus from them. Moments later, Teresa brought me my
coffee, remembering the particular way I liked it and we sat together
in the living room while I nursed my coffee, and discussed how things
were going so far.
Teresa chattered on about how much she was enjoying the weekend,
having free reign to train another's slave, an opportunity that she
seldom had. Teresa was a bit of a free agent in the M/s world. Some
thought she just had a short attention span, others that she was too
picky to settle down with one true Master. To me, I had told her that
she was probably just searching for the right opportunity to present
itself. So, until that opportunity did present itself, she traveled
around, doing her metal work, and playing with a number of maledoms
and female subs.
I had finished my coffee, when out from the kitchen came girl, with a
small tray carrying my breakfast. Girl had had some work done to her
by Teresa this morning, the leather pieces that I saw her appropriate
from the dungeon room this morning were now put to good use on girl.
Girl had leather cuffs on both her ankles and wrists, a small chain
between her ankles restricted her steps to tiny sixteen inch strides
effectively hobbling her so she had to mince towards me slowly
carrying my breakfast. Her wrists were locked together by the cuffs in
front of her drastically restricting her range of motion and forcing
her to do everything with her hands clasped together. She was shaking
as she kept hold of the tray, fearful of dropping her Master's
breakfast. Girl was also wearing a head harness with a whiffle ball
gag forced deep into her mouth. With the holes in the ball, there was
no fear of girl suffocating and she could easily breathe now through
her mouth as well as her nose, a feature full ball gags did not allow.
Teresa smiled as girl slowly lowered the tray onto the coffee table.
"The little cunt begged me to release her from her belt so that she
could orgasm this morning." She said as she swatted one of girls
exposed breasts.
"I felt it wise to keep her quiet today so we won't hear anymore of
her begging us to release her animal urges."
"I like it," I said.
"It seems that she hasn't gone this long without release since before
she was twenty and had learned about pleasuring herself." Teresa went
on as I ate my eggs and toast.
"She's quite frustrated; frankly she would do anything for a cummy..."
She learned over and smacked girl's other breast as girl had remained
kneeling in one of the positions Teresa had taught her. The position
was a customary pose of service, awaiting another command. She knelt
upright, her head up and alert as she watched us for any sign of
instruction. Failure to catch either of us giving her a gesture of
instruction would result in her failure of serving her Master and
Mistress. In this position, her main responsibility was to watch and
be ready to comply immediately.
After I finished, girl gathered my dishes, still cuffed and slowly
rose to stand and clean up. As she turned to head back to the kitchen,
I spotted Teresa's last little item of girls uniform. The buttplug
that usually locking into girls anus by the chastity belt had been
replaced by another plug which had attached a black horsehair tail
that swished ever so slightly when girl took her tiny restricted
steps.
I smiled and Teresa smiled as well as she was happy that her choice
had pleased me.
She confided in me that for the rest of the day, girl would be locked
in her present uniform, gag, tail and cuffs, and be forced to do all
of her chores. The work of course would go slowly as she was now
extremely hampered, but we both agreed that she needed to realize that
free body movement was not a right, but a gratuity that she should not
take for granted. I decided that girl would now be issued this as her
daily uniform. She had now been trained in the non-verbal
communication of the positions, and her work schedule had been set
into routine. Besides, there wasn't much I wanted to hear from her now
that she had accepted her role and status, so the gag would not be an
issue with communication. Slaves were to do what they were told. There
was nothing that a slave needed to say.
With permission, while girl was doing up the dishes in the kitchen in
her new bound state, Teresa scampered up to our room to change into
something a little intimidating for the day of training. This time,
she came down dressing in a skin tight latex catsuit, showing off all
her curves and leaving very little to the imagination. Donning a belt
with various rings she had attached a number of "persuasion" devices
that would be within ready reach to enforce her training on girl. A
flogger, a paddle, a leather slapper, some nipple clamps and chain,
she twirled around for me as I took in her figure. The rest of the
day, while I stayed on the periphery, Teresa stayed right behind girl,
and followed her around, beating her when she went to slow, and
beating her when she went too fast and made a mistake. Teresa took
time out often to hold and caress girl, playing with her nipples and
stroking her inner thighs, keeping girl wound up, sexually frustrated
and off balance as she never was able to anticipate if she would
receive sharp pain from her Mistress, or frustrating pleasure. By late
morning, girl was a frustrated, sore and panting little slave girl,
deep in subspace as her Mistress pushed all of her buttons to drive
her out of her mind. The only thing she could do was to react to the
ministrations and instructions of her Mistress, exactly what a slave
should do.

By three in the afternoon, girl had broken down in a heap, crying from
the frustration. Horny beyond belief, Teresa had broken her all the
way down. No amount of whipping, cajoling or threatening would get
girl to budge. I was called out of my home office by Teresa who had
apologized profusely for the interruption and failure. Stomping down
the stairs I saw girl, still in a wet heap in the middle of the living
room, sobbing and panting. When she saw me, she quickly gathered
herself in a prostate kneeling position. It was a position of
submission and honor for her authority figure, me. Looking down at
her, I asked, "Well? What's all this then?"
Girl, taking a moment to realize that I was not about to unlock her
gag so that she could talk, quickly rose up and positioned herself
next to my right leg, facing the same way as me, and with her locked
arms stroked my leg and rubbed her face against my leg in an almost
catlike move. Looking up at me with big eyes, there was a look of
pleading, of sexual famine in them.
Mewing like a kitten, she continued stroking, taking care not to touch
my cock. I had been clear about her not having that right. Frustrated
as she was, she still remembered all of the whippings I had
administered to her and she wanted no part of that.
"The little cunt is horny," said Teresa lazily.
I whipped around and grabbed Teresa by the hair, yanking her down to
the floor into a kneeling position, while girl scrambled out of harms
way and watched. Teresa yelped as I bent over and shoved my face into
hers.
"And whose fault is that, slave? Weren't you the one who has been
teasing her all fucking day long?"
Teresa's posturing suddenly went docile as she quickly realized that
her cavalier attitude a moment ago had gotten her into far more
trouble. She shivered in fear and excitement. My true Master
personality, the thing that had been dormant since girl had re-entered
my life had suddenly come back.
"It is my fault, Master." She whispered as I yanked her hair some more
causing delicious pain. "I have failed my responsibility of training
her by pushing too hard."
"So who's the cunt?" I yelled into her face.
"I am," she chastened.
"Overstepped yourself, didn't you?"
"Yes, Master." She quickly answered.
"Get out of that ridiculous outfit cunt, it doesn't fit you. You're no
dom!" I growled and pulled her up to her feet by her hair and
proceeded to keep a good hard hold on it while she quickly, awkwardly
peeled off the cat suit. Her confidence had disappeared and I pulled
out the nipple clamps from her discarded belt, quickly slapping her
nipples with my free hand till each stood attention, I then clamped
them with the clamps. She yelped, but her skin flushed with arousal as
I dragged her up to the dungeon room, ordering girl to follow behind.
Naked, confidence shaken, and scared, I tossed Teresa into the room
and dragged her over to the horse. She groaned when she realized where
she was going. The horse was a fiendish piece of furniture. It was
basically a saw horse, with four legs that held up a thin narrow
wooden beam. The wood had been varnished and sanded down for some
element of protection, but the width of the surface was just a scant
two inches. I bid girl to kneel in position near the horse and watch
and stay out of my way as I dealt with my slave. I pulled out from one
of my dressers a black leather sack like article and forced Teresa to
turn around and place her arms behind her back. Threading the sack up
her arms, I took two adjustable straps attached to the open end of the
sack and fastened them around her shoulders and chest. The arm sleeve
was a nice control device that essentially fastened both arms together
rather painfully behind your victims back. I quickly tightened the
laces that drew her arms impossibly together thus limiting her range
of motion with her arms to a straight upward and downward arc that
bent her upper body as well.

Picking her up, I then placed her straddling the wooden horse. Each
leg went on either side as I placed her exposed pussy right on the
thin two inch surface of the horizontal wooden plank. The plank was
too high off the ground for her to touch or rest her feet on, so her
entire body weight now rested on that hard narrow surface, all focused
on her pussy. The pain would start off quickly, building to unbearable
rather quickly. It was a nasty piece of work that I took particular
delight in using on my slaves.
She groaned as she tried to adjust herself; trying to find a somewhat
less painful position. Taking each leg I fastened a rope to them and
tied each one off to the bottom frame bar. This limited her leg motion
stopping her from squirming and forcing her to soak in the pain of her
punishment. Next I took a rope and affixed it to the metal ring at the
end of her armbinder, where her hands were bound and tied that to a
hitch in the ceiling, raising her arms straight behind her so that she
had to lean forward. Her body now was shaking as the pain started to
take hold.
Girl watched mutely, the line of drool from her gag had all but
cleared up as the focus now was on Mistress Teresa. Still hobbled, I
warned her to pay attention to the proceedings. Taking the nipple
chain I attached another thin rope to the center and tied that tightly
to the wall, pulling her nipples and thus her breast outwards and
upwards off her body. All trussed up I pulled out a heavy leather
flogger, held it to her face, where she immediately kissed it, and
then I proceeded to strike her with it all over her body. Slowly at
first, I increased the intensity leaving no area of her body unmarked.
The flogger brought out a nice red glow to her skin as she was forced
to bear it, along with the pain of the horse on her pussy bound as she
was. Teresa was panting now. She was a tough one, able to withstand
quite a lot of pain, however, the evening was just getting started as
I hung up the flogger and took out the crop. She kissed this devious
instrument of pain as well when I proffered it to her. The crop
allowed me to surgically strike her in the most sensitive spots. I
particularly enjoyed focusing its bite on the fleshy underside of her
breasts, making her whole body jump in pain then jump again as she
settled back on the biting wood of the horse on her now very tender
pussy. All the time I was striking her, I also chastised her for
failing in her task of training girl. That girls failures were hers,
that she was taking the punishment for both of them. Teresa
momentarily swung her head around and gave girl a threatening look,
which girl blanched at. I slapped her face, "Eye's forward, slave!" I
growled. "You focus on your Master. Not her."
Teresa apologized as she continued to take the crop. Once I hung up
the crop, I took a little break. I needed a drink and wanted to relax
in the living room for a little while. I motioned girl to kneel in
front of Teresa, allowing them to look into each others faces. Girl
still, hobbled was to see Teresa's and her own failure, and Teresa was
to see the reason for her suffering on the evil horse. Sobbing, Teresa
tried to bear the burden of the horse, while girl watched quietly, not
sure if she should comfort her Mistress, or if she were allowed to.
Twenty minutes later, I ascended the stairs and found the two in the
same positions, Teresa, now was sobbing uncontrollably as I entered
the room. I motioned girl to go back to her first position while I
checked on Teresa. Her crotch was raw from the horse, her skin all red
with small yellow welts from the crop. Her face wet and puffy from the
crying. She apologized again to her Master, begging me to take her off
the infernal horse. I took my fingers and gently rubbed her sore
pussy. The lips were hot and red, inflamed, yet there was wet pussy
juice coating them. I pulled my fingers out and shoved them into the
babbling mouth of Teresa forcing her to suck them clean. "Looks like
my little cunt is enjoying this!" I said as I dipped my fingers back
into her nectar.
This time I pulled them out and sucked my own fingers clean.
Still crying, she watched me turn to the wall with all the hanging
instruments and started groaning and begging me when she saw my pull
out the cane. A thin rattan cane that belied the viciousness of its
bite. With great pain and hesitation, she finally kissed the weapon
that was about to inflict more pain on her. A devious mood struck me
and just as I lined up for the first blow, I paused and turned to
girl. I motioned her to join me and handed the cane to her bound
together hands. She grasped it clumsily and had a look of confusion on
her face. Teresa watched as well.
"Girl, I am allowing you one swing at your Mistress. Think of it as
payback for how far she pushed you. Make it a good one or you'll be on
the horse next."
Girl nodded quickly, one thing she knew for sure and that was she
never wanted to be on the horse.
Teresa watched through teary eyes as girl took the cane and awkwardly
swung it a few times trying to get the handle of it. When ready, she
took aim and I stopped her.
"Hold the cane to her face, girl. Your Mistress must kiss it first
before you deliver the blow."
Humiliated enough as it was, having girl watch her Mistress receive
punishment, and now be about to be struck by the lowly girl, kissing
the cane was a final touch of cruelty that her imaginative Master
debased her with further. She kissed the cane, her face redder than
the flogged parts of her body, and then girl wound up and struck her
Mistress a cruel and wicked stroke right on her ass. Teresa howled
with pain as the blow continued to work its way into her nervous
system. Her body trembled, tears flowed anew. I took the cane from
girl and had her go back to her kneeling position. Holding the cane up
to Teresa's mouth, she finally noticed it when the pain subsided
enough that her sight had returned. "Kiss it," I said. It wasn't a
request. Begging and apologizing Teresa kissed it. Her entire body was
giving out. The pain too much. I alternated strokes now. One slice to
her breast, then I fingered her. Then a stroke to her calf, then I
fingered her. Then one to her ass, then I fingered her. Soon Teresa
was panting not just from the pain, but from the growing imminent
orgasm. Finally after the twenty fifth stroke, she came all over my
fingers, shrieking as she struggled in her bonds. Her body jerked and
spasmed for well over a minute while I held her, calming her down. I
called girl over and had her hold Teresa as well, one giant embrace as
we both brought Teresa down from her giant cum. I quickly removed her
from the horse, keeping her in the armbinders, I picked her near
lifeless body up and carried her into my bedroom, placing her limply
onto the bed. I sent girl off to the guest bathroom to get the lotion
for her wounds and tender flesh. Once returned, I then slowly applied
the lotion all over Teresa's body, paying special care to her sore
pussy. Only now did I realize that I would miss that pussy, as there
was no way that she would be able to take me down there for the rest
of the fast ending weekend. Finally she stirred, focusing on me; she
smiled and tested her bounds. "Thank you Master!" she slowly muttered.
I held her and stroked her hair. She was in bliss. The pain was almost
forgotten, there, in the background, but just as a low hum.

We had a quiet dinner. Girl went about with her usual chores, still
hobbled and gagged. I managed to help Teresa down to the dinning room,
where I lovingly fed her dinner since I had kept her arms bound behind
her in the armbinder since the punishment. She had gathered some
strength after dinner as we lounged on the sofa in the living room
watching some normal television. Girl was curled up at our feet, while
I continued to stroke Teresa. When it came for bed, I had Teresa
accompany girl to the bathroom where they could both relieve
themselves and I went to bed. They took longer than I expected, but
when Teresa and girl entered the room, I was treated to Teresa's face
and make up all done up, she had instructed girl to pretty her up for
her Master for our final evening of the weekend. Girl was locked into
her position from last night, and Teresa gently eased into the bed,
even with her arms bound behind her, she was graceful and catlike. I
smiled and told her I appreciated the effort on both their parts. She
smiled and asked her Master if he had any wishes that she could
fulfill. Knowing that her crotch was sore and recovering, I chose her
to suck me in bed, her kneeling and bobbing her head while I lay back
and enjoyed the sight of a gorgeous woman blowing her Master.

Sunday, Teresa was free to continue with her training of girl,
chastened from the punishment she had received on Saturday, she made
sure to not over do it with the still very inexperienced girl. Girl
still was sexually frustrated, imprisoned in her chastity belt that I
refused to unlock for her to satisfy her carnal desires. I felt a
little sorry for her, but it still had only been a week, and she could
go a lot longer than that. It was important that I controlled her sex.
If I ever let her out of the belt, she would be eternally grateful to
her Lord and Master, who was becoming in her eyes, the person who held
life and death, pain and pleasure, agony and ecstasy within his firmly
clenched fist. From now on, girl would remain hobbled, her ankles and
wrists chained closely together as she minced around in short steps as
quickly as possible trying to do her chores.

In the late afternoon, while girl was off cleaning, I consulted with
Teresa on the training, her time was finishing up and soon she would
be leaving my home, off for some other adventure no doubt. She
recommended that I get girl in to a regimented exercise program as she
knew that girl would not be leaving the house and now with the
restricted limbs from the hobble chains, her muscles would atrophy
with the lack of full range movement.
I agreed, and planned on allowing girl the use of my workout room
behind the garage. Teresa suggested a good personal trainer,
comfortable with the lifestyle, that would be able to design a
realistic plan and diet that could eventually take the weight off
girls frame and perhaps tone her into something not so disgusting. I
took the number from her and when it seemed that we had covered
everything else, there was a pause that Teresa filled in with a
shocking revelation.
"Master David," she said. She used my name along with the Master
title, a sign that her time in my household was over and she was no
longer the status of my slave. However, she did still use the title
Master, rather than just my name, which in itself was curious.
"I want to thank you for this weekend. Allowing me into your home,
train your girl, and serve you."
"It was my pleasure," I responded automatically, when she placed her
hand on mine. She had more to say.
"You've known me for a while. I've floated around quite a bit.
Topping, bottoming, most just can't quite figure me out. I think I've
been searching, looking for that special situation..."
Sometimes, I can be dense, and as she was stepping around the subject,
I had no idea what it was that she was trying to say. Yes I know,
dense!
"...you see the type of person I am, the needs that I have, are a little
more unique. I need a strong hand, but I also need to become a strong
hand. I don't think I can top my Master, I would just loose too much
respect for him, however, a part of me needs to top someone from time
to time."
She continued as she met my staring unknowing gaze. She drew a little
imaginary design on my hand with her finger as she held it.
"I know that once, long ago, there was an offer from you to become my
Master, to collar me and make me your own. At the time, I turned you
down, and I can't speak for you, but a part of me has always regretted
that decision. Seeing you take girl as your slave, after all she had
done to you, the pain and hurt, humiliation, you were a broken man, I
just couldn't see you throwing that gift upon someone so unworthy."
I said. "She had no where else to turn, and I felt that I could
inflict the most amount of pain on her if she were of slave status..."
She hushed me. "She...doesn't deserve it. You've spent too much energy
on her. I saw it in your eyes when I came over for the fitting..."
"Teresa, I've made a commitment, it wasn't the best decision, but
there really wasn't a better choice. Now I've committed to her as my
slave, and I don't break my word, you know that."
She learned forward and kissed me, tenderly. She looked sadly into my
eyes.
"I know Master David, I know. You are very special, and more worthy
than you think. Damaged, you certainly are, but you do things others
don't, both good and dastardly evil!"
I chuckled at that. She returned the smile.
"I wonder, Master David, if you might allow me to reconsider your
offer you made to me originally..."
"Oh," I said. I was stunned and sat there for a moment.
"What I'm trying to say, Master David, is that I am willing to accept
your collar, to become your slave, and share in your household my
servitude to you and help in training girl."
I held her hand. My heart was beating again with excitement and
confusion. She stared at me with her dark alluring eyes.
Composing myself I entered negotiation mode. It's important that when
establishing a relationship, both parties understand what's expected
of them and what their standing is. Teresa was proposing maintaining
the same status she had during the weekend, that of First Slave. Her
use of the term Master David, to her, I was now understanding was a
submission to me, as a hopeful initiate, eager that I would perhaps
take her on as my own.

So there it was. Her offer to become mine. The pros and cons scrolled
through my head. On the one hand, her work with girl and assimilating
into my household was smooth and expert, on the other, she had a
tendency to move on with her relationships and the task of keeping her
happy as my slave was daunting. Although she had always reinforced my
Masterly ways, she had many more years of experience than I had and my
confidence wasn't as strong when she was around.
"Let's say I do collar you. Teresa, you've bounced around a lot,
collaring you means a commitment that I don't take lightly, I'm not
sure that you could say the same."
"I am committed, Master David, I don't know how to prove that, but I
must try to prove to you through service and time that I hold your
offer of a collar as final."
"Another thing, you are rather cheeky asking me for a commitment while
at the same time making a demand on me. You wish to be my slave but
only with First Slave status?"
Teresa swallowed.
"I was only trying to help you see where I could be of value to you.
Taking on another slave when you have so much work to do with your
current girl, would seem overwhelming. Sir, I was not trying to
negotiate, only trying to sell you on the idea of collaring me and my
uses to you in your service."
I was quiet. First rule in bargaining: after stating your position,
the first person to speak after that looses. I would be satisfied for
her to speak first.
After a long silent moment she added. "I will take whatever position
Master David would choose of me. If you wish...girl...to be First Slave, I
would still willingly serve..."
I smiled. She had bowed to my dominance. Given up her final bargaining
chip. If I accepted, girl could be the one beating her and training
her, and she would be "happy" to take it.
"Well it seems that the offer is on the table again. Teresa, I am
offering you my collar. Will you willingly and gladly serve me as your
Master, doing everything and anything that your Master so chooses?"
Teresa's eyes lit up. She nodded. "Yes, Master David, I will accept
your offer and would be proud to wear your collar in servitude."
She knelt down before me and kissed each of my feet.
I bid her to rise and to sit back at the table.
"You will retain your status that you enjoyed this weekend. I'm not an
idiot, you'll best serve me whipping girl into shape."
She smiled and then jumped into my lap embracing me and smothering me
in kisses.
When we came up for air I asked, "You little minx, I bet you never
even packed!"
The little pouty girl face flashed before her as she nodded, "Yes
Master!"
"So who's topping who?" I laughed as I gave her a smack on her ass.
"We'll have to work some logistics out," I said. Unlike girl, slave
Teresa had a job and would contribute to the household with her
salary, among other things.

Girl didn't know how to take the news. Slave Teresa had trained and
tormented her all weekend long and she was rather looking forward to
her leaving. Now it seemed that Slave Teresa had installed herself as
a permanent fixture in her Master's house, and with First Slave status
to boot. However, Slave Teresa pointed out to girl that with the two
of them in the house, all the chores would be down quicker and faster
and that the loneliness that girl had experienced would now be broken
as she had a sister slave to share experiences and feelings with.
Slave Teresa was giddy with anticipation of her new sister slave,
eager to show the novice all the tricks and nuances of servitude,
perhaps forgetting that she had "chosen" to become a slave by choice,
while girl had no choice in her role.

Over the next four weeks, my house was a whirlwind of activity as we
integrated another schedule and body into the mix. I sold girl's beat
up car, effectively isolating her from being able to leave now. The
personal trainer had been called over and designed a workout schedule
for all of us, as well as a diet. I recognized that with two women in
the house I needed to have both emotional and physical energy to deal
with both of them. Our diets were strictly followed as girl and slave
Teresa prepared the meals. Girl was now receiving instruction from
both of us as I managed to communicate my desires to slave Teresa and
she was able to follow them easily.
The tough part was that I needed to keep Teresa challenged. She took
her charge as First Slave seriously, but too much attention on girl
was a bit unhealthy. So I broke things up by punishing her for my
pleasure and sometimes locking her away in solitude to make sure she
understood her position.
Girl was still chaste, and every week slave Teresa would lock her
hands behind her and unlock the pussy shield and wash her. Many an
evening, girl had to witness what she had lost by cheating on me as
slave Teresa eagerly took my cock, rubbing the fact into girl's face
that she was now sexless.

By the third month, girl was having problems concentrating. No amount
of punishments or threats could seem to correct her. She tried her
hardest, but her concentration drifted at times. I realized she needed
an orgasm. Chastising someone meant that you needed to allow them an
orgasm every once in a while otherwise their sex drive would just
wither away. With no hope of sex, the control of that drive would
diminish. By allowing her an orgasm, every once in a while, I could
continue to reinforce that control over her. Girl had indeed lost
weight and firmed up a little, she still had a long road to go. Slave
Teresa would on occasion glue some hideous colored wig onto her bald
head that had been kept bald by me.

One particularly hot evening of spankings and punishment, of teasing
and foreplay, I surprised them both by pulling out the key to girl's
chastity belt. Girl except for her exercise routine, and the rare
occasion, had remained hobbled by her ankles and wrists. I locked her
wrists behind her back and dropped a firm cylindrical pillow down on
the ground. Unlocking her pussy shield, the cool air flowed over her
tender fleshy folds. Immediately her nipples were erect, hard as
diamonds and her pussy started to flow.
Grasping her chin I placed the pillow under her crotch between her
thighs as she knelt. With her hands cuffed behind her she would have
to hump the pillow to touch herself.
"Here's the deal, cunt." I growled. "I'm not sure you deserve this so
you will have to ask me permission before you cum. You will not cum
before I give you permission. If you do, then that will be the last
orgasm you will have. Period. Got it?"
She nodded frantically, "Yes, Master."
"Now while you hump like a little doggy, you'll watch your sister
slave get the fucking you gave up when you left me for that winner of
a boyfriend."
"It's gonna be sooooo good!" Purred slave Teresa.
I flipped slave Teresa onto her back on the couch and slowly pushed my
cock into her wet waiting hungry hole. I gave permission to girl to
start humping the pillow.
"Match my thrusts!" I ordered her and she matched time with me as she
watched both of us fuck. Her eyes a glaze as the sensations of feeling
down there reminded her of what she had been missing for three months.
Soon she started begging me if she could cum.
"Not yet," I growled and she would stifle a sob and slow down,
sometimes raising her pussy off the soaking wet stained pillow.
"Oh he feels so good! I can't believe you threw this cock away girl!
What were you thinking?" slave Teresa said and she grounded into me.
"Hump that pillow cunt!"
"That's all you're allowed while your ex fucks me good!"
"Thank you girl! Thank you for dumping him! Now he's free to fuck
everyone but you!"
Girl was sobbing as the litany of insults slapped her in the face, yet
she still rode that pillow, begging me to allow her to cum, pleading
me, while I kept saying no.
Soon slave Teresa and I both came together, waves of pleasure crashing
over us, and somewhere in the din of ecstasy girl continued to beg,
while I mutely shock my head no.
As we came down, girl continued her sobbing yet frantic humping and
pleas to be allow a cum. I swiveled out of slave Teresa's pussy and
pulled her cunt off the cough and aimed it right at girl's face. "Lick
it clean I ordered."
And girl, humping away on the pillow like mad, gurgling her pleas,
slurped into slave's pussy. Slave came again, and once finished pulled
her pussy away from the hungry girl.
We looked at her impassively as she begged. Both in an embrace, I
finally relented, and allowed her to cum.
The shriek that flew out her mouth was deafening. Her body struggled
against her bonds, and she squirted all over the already soaked
pillow. Convulsions followed as her orgasm lasted for five minutes (I
timed it!). Grunting, moaning, groaning, what came out of her throat
was her entire sexual animal essence. Her eyes rolled back and she
keeled over to one side, collapsing on the floor, the pillow locked
between her legs. Even though she had lost consciousness, her body,
deprived of orgasm for so long, continued to milk out the orgasm even
though she was out. Thrust and humping until even that subsided.
We disentangled her from the pillow after looking at each other with a
look of awe at what we had just witnessed. Slave cleaned her pussy up,
and then I reattached the pussy shield to her belt. Girl came to an
hour later, confused at first then remembered what had happened, she
look down to her crotch to discover the shield firmly in place.
Looking up at me, there was as reverential sense of awe. She had just
experienced a religious revelation, and her true god had now become
her Master. Thanking me for the orgasm, girl had found her motivation
and her lapses in focus had disappeared.

The End - For Now

I haven't really decided whether David forgives his ex-wife and
becomes intimate with her in the future. A part of me thinks that he
will, he certainly is conflicted with his emotions already. I wrote
this as a reaction to all of those wife sharing, cuckolding stories
I've read on the net. The humiliation certainly turns me one as well
as the power exchange, however, my jealousy and possessiveness makes
me usually regret reading those stories afterwards.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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